f 


4 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


BY 

THOMAS     HARDY 


*  Ah,  my  heart !  her  eyes  and  she 
Have  taught  thee  new  astrology. 
Howe'er  Love's  native  hours  were  set, 
Whatever  starry  synod  met, 
'Tis  in  the  mercy  of  her  eye. 
If  poor  Love  shall  live  or  die.* 

Crashaw  :   Lovers  Horoscope. 


►        ■»»■»• 


*    *    »  J    I  ) 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 
NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 


CtclXA 


♦  •  • '.  • » •  •  •  * 
,• ,. .  •  •  •  • 


PREFACE 

This  sllghtly-built  romance  was  the  outcome  of  a  wish 
to  set  the  emotional  history  of  two  infinitesimal  lives 
against  the  stupendous  background  of  the  stellar 
universe,  and  to  impart  to  readers  the  sentiment  that 
of  these  contrasting  magnitudes  the  smaller  might  be 
the  greater  to  them  as  men. 

But  on  the  publication  of  the  book  people  seemed 
to  be  less  struck  with  these  high  aims  of  the  author 
than  with  their  own  opinion,  first,  that  the  novel  was 
an  *  improper '  one  in  its  morals,  and,  secondly,  that  it 
was  intended  to  be  a  satire  on  the  Established  Church 
of  this  country.  I  was  made  to  suffer  in  consequence 
from  several  eminent  pens. 

That,  however,  was  thirteen  years  ago,  and,  in 
respect  of  the  first  opinion,  I  venture  to  think  that 
those  who  care  to  read  the  story  now  will  be  quite 
astonished  at  the  scrupulous  propriety  observed  therein 
on  the  relations  of  the  sexes  ;  for  though  there  may  be 
frivolous,  and  even  grotesque  touches  on  occasion, 
there  is  hardly  a  single  caress  in  the  book  outside  legal 
matrimony,  or  what  was  intended  so  to  be. 

As  for  the  second  opinion,  it  is  sufficient  to  draw 

attention,  as  I  did  at  the   time,  to  the  fact  that  the 

vii 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Bishop  is  every  inch  a  gentleman,  and  that  the  parish 
priest  who  figures  in  the  narrative  is  one  of  its  most 
estimable  characters. 

However,  the  pages  must  speak  for  themselves. 
Some  few  readers,  I  trust — to  take  a  serious  view — 
will  be  reminded  by  this  imperfect  story,  in  a  manner 
not  unprofitable  to  the  growth  of  the  social  sympathies, 
of  the  pathos,  misery,  long-suffering,  and  divine 
tenderness  which  in  real  life  frequently  accompany 
the  passion  of  such  a  woman  as  Viviette  for  a  lover 
several  years  her  junior. 

The  scene  of  the  action  was  suggested  by  two 
real  spots  in  the  part  of  the  country  specified,  each 
of  which  has  a  column  standing  upon  it.  Certain 
surrounding  peculiarities  have  been  imported  into  the 
narrative  from  both  sites,  and  from  elsewhere. 

The  first  edition  of  the  novel  w^as  published  in 

1882,  in  three  volumes. 

T.  H. 

July  1895. 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


I 


On  an  early  winter  afternoon,  clear  but  not  cold, 
when  the  vegetable  world  was  a  weird  multitude  of 
skeletons  through  whose  ribs  the  sun  shone  freely,  a 
gleaming  landau  came  to  a  pause  on  the  crest  of  a  hill 
in  Wessex.  The  spot  was  where  the  old  Melchester 
Road,  which  the  carriage  had  hitherto  followed,  was 
joined  by  a  drive  that  led  round  into  a  park  at  no  great 
distance  off. 

The  footman  alighted,  and  went  to  the  occupant  of 
the  carriage,  a  lady  about  eight-  or  nine -and- twenty. 
She  was  looking  through  the  opening  afforded  by  a 
field-gate  at  the  undulating  stretch  of  country  beyond. 
In  pursuance  of  some  remark  from  her  the  servant 
looked  in  the  same  direction. 

The  central  feature  of  the  middle  distance,  as  they 
beheld  it,  was  a  circular  isolated  hill,  of  no  great  eleva- 
tion, which  placed  itself  in  strong  chromatic  contrast 
with  a  wide  acreage  of  surrounding  arable  by  being 
covered  with  fir-trees.  The  trees  were  all  of  one  size 
and  age,  so  that  their  tips  assumed  the  precise  curve  of 
the  hill  they  grew  upon.  This  pine-clad  protuberance 
was  yet  further  marked  out  from  the  general  landscape 
by  having  on  its  summit  a  tower  in  the  form  of  a 
classical  column,  which,  though  partly  immersed  in  the 
plantation,  rose  above  the  tree-tops  to  a  considerable 
height.  Upon  this  object  the  eyes  of  lady  and  servant 
were  bent. 

'  Then  there  is  no  road  leading  near  it  ?  '  she  asked. 

*  Nothing  nearer  than  where  we  are  now,  my  lady.' 

I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Then  drive  home,'  she  said  after  a  moment.  And 
the  carriage  rolled  on  its  way. 

A  few  days  later,  the  same  lady,  in  the  same 
carriage,  passed  that  spot  again.  Her  eyes,  as  before, 
turned  to  the  distant  tower. 

*  Nobbs,'  she  said  to  the  coachman,  *  could  you  find 
your  way  home  through  that  field,  so  as  to  get  near  the 
cjutsklrts  of  the  plantation  where  the  column  is  ?' 

The  coachman  regarded  the  field.  *  Well,  my  lady,' 
he  observed,  *  in  dry  weather  we  might  drive  in  there 
by  inching  and  pinching,  and  so  get  across  by  Five- 
and-Twenty  Acres,  all  being  well.  But  the  ground  is 
so  heavy  after  these  rains  that  perhaps  it  would  hardly 
be  safe  to  try  it  now.' 

*  Perhaps  not,'  she  assented  indifferently.  *  Re- 
member it,  will  you,  at  a  drier  time  ?  ' 

And  again  the  carriage  sped  along  the  road,  the 
lady's  eyes  resting  on  the  segmental  hill,  the  blue  trees 
that  muffled  it,  and  the  column  that  formed  its  apex, 
till  they  were  out  of  sight. 

A  long  time  elapsed  before  that  lady  drove  over 
the  hill  again.  It  was  February  ;  the  soil  was  now  un- 
questionably dry,  the  weather  and  scene  being  in  other 
respects  much  as  they  had  been  before.  The  familiar 
shape  of  the  column  seemed  to  remind  her  that  at 
last  an  opportunity  for  a  close  inspection  had  arrived. 
Giving  her  directions  she  saw  the  gate  opened,  and 
after  a  little  manoeuvring  the  carriage  swayed  slowly 
into  the  uneven  field. 

Although  the  pillar  stood  upon  the  hereditary  estate 
of  her  husband  the  lady  had  never  visited  it,  owing  to 
its  insulation  by  this  well-nigh  impracticable  ground. 
The  drive  to  the  base  of  the  hill  was  tedious  and  jerky, 
and  on  reaching  it  she  alighted,  directing  that  the  car- 
riage should  be  driven  back  empty  over  the  clods,  to 
wait  for  her  on  the  nearest  edge  of  the  field.  She  then 
ascended  beneath  the  trees  on  foot. 

The  column  now  showed  itself  as  a  much  more 
important  erection  than  it  had  appeared  from  the  road, 

2 


i!' 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

or  the  park,  or  the  windows  of  Welland  House,  her 
residence  hard  by,  whence  she  had  surveyed  it  hundreds 
of  times  without  ever  feeling  a  sufficient  interest  in 
its  details  to  investigate  them.  The  column  had  been 
erected  in  the  eighteenth  century,  as  a  substantial 
memorial  of  her  husband's  great-grandfather,  a  respect- 
able officer  who  had  fallen  in  the  American  war,  and 
the  reason  of  her  lack  of  interest  was  partly  owing  to 
her  relations  with  this  husband,  of  which  more  anon. 
It  was  little  beyond  the  sheer  desire  for  something 
to  do — the  chronic  desire  of  her  curiously  lonely  life — 
that  had  brought  her  here  now.  She  was  in  a  mood 
to  welcome  anything  that  would  in  some  measure 
disperse  an  almost  killing  enmd.  She  would  have 
welcomed  even  a  misfortune.  She  had  heard  that 
from  the  summit  of  the  pillar  four  counties  could  be 
seen.  Whatever  pleasurable  effect  was  to  be  derived 
from  looking  into  four  counties  she  resolved  to  enjoy 
to-day. 

The  fir-shrouded  hill-top  was  (according  to  some 
antiquaries)  an  old  Roman  camp, — if  it  were  not  (as 
others  insisted)  an  old  British  castle,  or  (as  the  rest 
swore)  an  old  Saxon  field  of  Witenagemote, — with 
remains  of  an  outer  and  an  inner  vallum,  a  winding 
path  leading  up  between  their  overlapping  ends  by  an 
easy  ascent.  The  spikelets  from  the  trees  formed  a 
soft  carpet  over  the  route,  and  occasionally  a  brake  of 
brambles  barred  the  interspaces  of  the  trunks.  Soon 
she  stood  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  column. 

It  had  been  built  in  the  Tuscan  order  of  classic 
architecture,  and  was  really  a  tower,  being  hollow  with 
steps  inside.  The  gloom  and  solitude  which  prevailed 
I  round  the  base  were  remarkable.  The  sob  of  the 
environing  trees  was  here  expressively  manifest ;  and 
moved  by  the  light  breeze  their  thin  straight  stems 
rocked  in  seconds,  like  inverted  pendulums ;  while 
some  boughs  and  twigs  rubbed  the  pillar's  sides,  or 
occasionally  clicked  in  catching  each  other.  Below  the 
level  of  their  summits  the  masonry  was  lichen-stained 

3 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  mildewed,  for  the  sun  never  pierced  that  moaning 
cloud  of  blue-black  vegetation.  Pads  of  moss  grew  in  \  r 
the  joints  of  the  stone-work,  and  here  and  there  shade-  •  j 
loving  insects  had  engraved  on  the  mortar  patterns  '  I 
of  no  human  style  or  meaning ;  but  curious  and  sug-  \  \ 
gestive.  Above  the  trees  the  case  was  different :  the 
pillar  rose  into  the  sky  a  bright  and  cheerful  thing,  un- 
impeded, clean,  and  flushed  with  the  sunlight. 

The  spot  was  seldom  visited  by  a  pedestrian,  except 
perhaps  in  the  shooting  season.  The  rarity  of  human 
intrusion  was  evidenced  by  the  mazes  of  rabbit-runs, 
the  feathers  of  shy  birds,  the  exuviae  of  reptiles  ;  as  also 
by  the  well-worn  paths  of  squirrels  down  the  sides  of 
trunks,  and  thence  horizontally  away.  The  fact  of  the 
plantation  being  an  island  in  the  midst  of  an  arable 
plain  sufficiently  accounted  for  this  lack  of  visitors. 
Few  unaccustomed  to  such  places  can  be  aware  of  the 
insulating  effect  of  ploughed  ground,  when  no  necessity 
compels  people  to  traverse  it.  This  rotund  hill  of  trees 
and  brambles,  standing  in  the  centre  of  a  ploughed  field 
of  some  forty  or  fifty  acres,  was  probably  visited 
less  frequently  than  a  rock  would  have  been  visited  in 
a  lake  of  equal  extent. 

She  walked  round  the  column  to  the  other  side, 
where  she  found  the  door  through  which  the  interior 
was  reached.  The  paint,  if  it  had  ever  owned  any, 
was  all  washed  from  the  wood,  and  down  the  decaying 
surface  of  the  boards  liquid  rust  from  the  nails  and 
hinges  had  run  in  red  stains.  Over  the  door  was  a 
stone  tablet,  bearing,  apparently,  letters  or  words  ;  but 
the  inscription,  whatever  it  was,  had  been  smoothed 
over  with  a  plaster  of  lichen. 

Here  stood  this  aspiring  piece  of  masonry,  erected 
as  the  most  conspicuous  and  ineffaceable  reminder  of 
a  man  that  could  be  thought  of;  and  yet  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  memorial  betokened  forgetfulness.  Prob- 
ably not  a  dozen  people  within  the  district  knew  the 
name  of  the  person  commemorated,  while  perhaps  not 
a  soul  remembered  whether  the  column  were  hollow  or 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

solid,  whether  with  or  without  a  tablet  explaining  its 
date  and  purpose.  She  herself  had  lived  within  a  mile 
of  it  for  the  last  five  years,  and  had  never  come  near 
it  till  now. 

She  hesitated  to  ascend  alone,  but  finding  that  the 
door  was  not  fastened  she  pushed  it  open  with  her 
foot,  and  entered.  A  scrap  of  writing-paper  lay  within, 
and  arrested  her  attention  by  its  freshness.  Some 
human  being,  then,  knew  the  spot,  despite 'her  sur- 
mises. But  as  the  paper  had  nothing  on  it  no  clue 
was  afforded  ;  yet  feeling  herself  the  proprietor  of  the 
column  and  of  all  around  it  her  self-assertiveness  was 
sufficient  to  lead  her  on.  The  staircase  was  lighted  by 
slits  in  the  wall,  and  there  was  no  difficulty  in  reaching 
the  top,  the  steps  being  quite  unworn.  The  trap-door 
leading  on  to  the  roof  was  open,  and  on  looking 
through  it  an  interesting  spectacle  met  her  eye. 

A  youth  was  sitting  on  a  stool  in  the  centre  of  the 
lead  flat  which  formed  the  summit  of  the  column,  his 
eye  being  applied  to  the  end  of  a  large  telescope  that 
stood  before  him  on  a  tripod.  This  sort  of  presence 
was  unexpected,  and  the  lady  started  back  into  the 
shade  of  the  opening.  The  only  effect  produced  upon 
him  by  her  footfall  was  an  impatient  wave  of  the  hand, 
which  he  did  without  removing  his  eye  from  the 
instrument,  as  if  to  forbid  her  to  interrupt  him. 

Pausing  where  she  stood  the  lady  examined  the 
aspect  of  the  individual  who  thus  made  himself  so 
completely  at  home  on  a  building  which  she  deemed 
her  unquestioned  property.  He  was  a  youth  who 
might  properly  have  been  characterized  by  a  word  the 
judicious  chronicler  would  not  readily  use  in  such  a 
I  connexion,  preferring  to  reserve  it  for  raising  images 
of  the  opposite  sex.  Whether  because  no  deep  felicity 
is  likely  to  arise  from  the  condition,  or  from  any  other 
reason,  to  say  in  these  days  that  a  youth  is  beautiful 
is  not  to  award  him  that  amount  of  credit  which  the 
expression  would  have  carried  with  it  if  he  had  lived 
in  the  times  of  the  Classical  Dictionary.     So  much, 

5 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

indeed,  is  the  reverse  the  case  that  the  assertion 
creates  an  awkwardness  in  saying  anything  more  about 
him.  The  beautiful  youth  usually  verges  so  perilously 
on  the  incipient  coxcomb,  who  is  about  to  become  the 
Lothario  or  Juan  among  the  neighbouring  maidens, 
that,  for  the  due  understanding  of  our  present  young 
man,  his  sublime  innocence  of  any  thought  concerning 
his  own  material  aspect,  or  that  of  others,  is  most 
fervently  asserted,  and  must  be  as  fervently  believed. 

Such  as  he  was,  there  the  lad  sat.  The  sun  shone 
full  in  his  face,  and  on  his  head  he  wore  a  black  velvet 
skull-cap,  leaving  to  view  below  it  a  curly  margin  of 
very  light  shining  hair,  which  accorded  well  with  the 
flush  upon  his  cheek. 

He  had  such  a  complexion  as  that  with  which 
Raffaelle  enriches  the  countenance  of  the  youthful  son 
of  Zacharias, — a  complexion  which,  though  clear,  is  far 
enough  removed  from  virgin  delicacy,  and  suggests 
plenty  of  sun  and  wind  as  its  accompaniment.  His 
features  were  sufficiently  straight  in  the  contours  to 
correct  the  beholder's  first  impression  that  the  head  was 
the  head  of  a  girl.  Beside  him  stood  a  little  oak  table, 
and  in  front  was  the  telescope. 

His  visitor  had  ample  time  to  make  these  observa- 
tions ;  and  she  may  have  done  so  all  the  more  keenly 
through  being  herself  of  a  totally  opposite  type.  Her 
hair  was  black  as  midnight,  her  eyes  had  no  less  deep 
a  shade,  and  her  complexion  showed  the  richness  de- 
manded as  a  support  to  these  decided  features.  As 
she  continued  to  look  at  the  pretty  fellow  before  her, 
apparently  so  far  abstracted  into  some  speculative 
world  as  scarcely  to  know  a  real  one,  a  warmer  wave 
of  her  warm  temperament  glowed  visibly  through  her, 
and  a  qualified  observer  might  from  this  have  hazarded 
a  guess  that  there  was  Romance  blood  in  her  veins. 

But  even  the  interest  attaching  to  the  youth  could 
not  arrest  her  attention  for  ever,  and  as  he  made  no 
further  signs  of  moving  his  eye  from  the  instrument 
3he  broke  the  silence  with — 

6 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  What  do  you  see  ? — something  happening  some- 
where ?  * 

'  Yes,  quite  a  catastrophe ! '  he  automatically  mur- 
mured, without  moving  round. 

'  What  ? ' 

'  A  cyclone  in  the  sun.* 

The  lady  paused,  as  if  to  consider  the  weight  of 
that  event  in  the  scale  of  terrene  life. 

'  Will  it  make  any  difference  to  us  here  ? '  she 
asked. 

The  young  man  by  this  time  seemed  to  be 
awakened  to  the  consciousness  that  somebody  unusual 
was  talking  to  him  ;  he  turned,  and  started. 

*  I  beg  your  pardon,'  he  said.  *  I  thought  it  was 
my  relative  come  to  look  after  me !  She  often  comes 
about  this  time.' 

He  continued  to  look  at  her  and  forget  the  sun, 
just  such  a  reciprocity  of  influence  as  might  have  been 
expected  between  a  dark  lady  and  a  flaxen-haired 
youth  making  itself  apparent  in  the  faces  of  each. 

'  Don't  let  me  interrupt  your  observations,'  said 
she. 

*  Ah,  no,'  said  he,  again  applying  his  eye  ;  where- 
upon his  face  lost  the  animation  which  her  presence 
had  lent  it,  and  became  immutable  as  that  of  a  bust, 
though  superadding  to  the  serenity  of  repose  the 
sensitiveness  of  life.  The  expression  that  settled  on 
him  was  one  of  awe.  Not  unaptly  might  it  have  been 
said  that  he  was  worshipping  the  sun.  Among  the 
various  intensities  of  that  worship  which  have  prevailed 
since  the  first  intelligent  being  saw  the  luminary 
decline  westward,  as  the  young  man   now   beheld  it 

I  doing,  his  was  not  the  weakest.  He  was  engaged  in 
what  may  be  called  a  very  chastened  or  schooled  form 
of  that  first  and  most  natural  of  adorations. 

'  But  would  you  like  to  see  it  ? '  he  recommenced. 
*  It  is  an  event  that  is  witnessed  only  about  once 
in  two  or  three  years,  though  it  may  occur  often 
enough.* 

7 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

She  assented,  and  looked  through  the  shaded  eye- 
piece, and  saw  a  whirling  mass,  in  the  centre  of  which 
the  blazing  globe  seemed  to  be  laid  bare  to  its  core. 
It  was  a  peep  into  a  maelstrom  of  fire,  taking  place 
where  nobody  had  ever  been  or  ever  would  be. 

*  It  is  the  strangest  thing  I  ever  beheld,'  she  said. 
Then  he  looked  again ;  till  wondering  who  her  com- 
panion could  be  she  asked,  *  Are  you  often  here  ?  ' 

*  Every  night  when  it  is  not  cloudy,  and  often  in 
the  day.' 

*  Ah,  night,  of  course.  The  heavens  must  be  beauti- 
ful from  this  point.' 

*  They  are  rather  more  than  that.* 

*  Indeed!  Have  you  entirely  taken  possession  of 
this  column  ? ' 

*  Entirely.'  \ 

*  But  it  is  my  column,'  she  said,  with  smiling 
asperity. 

*  Then  are  you  Lady  Constantine,  wife  of  the 
absent  Sir  Blount  Constantine  ?  * 

*  I  am  Lady  Constantine.* 

*  Ah,  then  I  agree  that  it  is  your  ladyship's.  But 
will  you  allow  me  to  rent  it  of  you  for  a  time,  Lady 
Constantine  ? ' 

*  You  have  taken  it,  whether  I  allow  it  or  not. 
However,  in  the  interests  of  science  it  is  advisable  that 
you  continue  your  tenancy.  Nobody  knows  you  are 
here,  I  suppose  ?  * 

*  Hardly  anybody.* 

He  then  took  her  down  a  few  steps  into  the  interior, 
and  showed  her  some  ingenious  contrivances  for  stow- 
ing articles  away. 

*  Nobody  ever  comes  near  the  column, — or,  as  it's  i 
called   here,    Rings-Hill   Speer,*  he   continued;    *and| 
when  I  first  came  up  it  nobody  had  been  here  for  thirty  " 
or  forty  years.     The  staircase  was  choked  with  daws' 
nests  and  feathers,  but  I  cleared  them  out.' 

*  I  understood  the  column  was  always  kept  locked  ?  * 
*Yes,  it  has  been  so.     When  it  was  built,  in  1782, 

8 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the  key  was  given  to  my  great-grandfather,  to  keep 
by  him  in  case  visitors  should  happen  to  want  it.  He 
lived  just  down  there  where  I  Hve  now.' 

He  denoted  by  a  nod  a  Httle  dell  lying  immediately 
beyond  the  ploughed  land  which  environed  them. 

*  He  kept  it  in  his  bureau,  and  as  the  bureau  de- 
scended to  my  grandfather,  my  mother,  and  myself, 
the  key  descended  with  it.  After  the  first  thirty  or 
forty  years,  nobody  ever  asked  for  it.  One  day  I  saw 
it,  lying  rusty  in  its  niche,  and,  finding  that  it  belonged 
to  this  column,  I  took  it  and  came  up.  I  stayed  here 
till  it  was  dark,  and  the  stars  came  out,  and  that  night 
I  resolved  to  be  an  astronomer.  I  came  back  here 
from  school  several  months  ago,  and  I  mean  to  be  an 
astronomer  still* 

He  lowered  his  voice,  and  added  : 

*  I  aim  at  nothing  less  than  the  dignity  and  office 
of  Astronomer  Royal,  if  I  live.  Perhaps  I  shall  not 
live.' 

'  I  don't  see  why  you  should  suppose  that,'  said 
she.  '  How  long  are  you  going  to  make  this  your 
observatory  ? ' 

*  About  a  year  longer — till  I  have  obtained  a  prac- 
tical familiarity  with  the  heavens.  Ah,  if  I  only  had 
a  good  equatorial ! ' 

*  What  is  that  ?  ' 

*  A  proper  instrument  for  my  pursuit.  But  time  is 
short,  and  science  is  infinite, — how  infinite  only  those 
who  study  astronomy  fully  realize, — and  perhaps  I 
shall  be  worn  out  before  I  make  my  mark.' 

She  seemed  to  be  greatly  struck  by  the  odd 
mixture  in  him  of  scientific  earnestness  and  melancholy 
mistrust  of  all  things  human.  Perhaps  it  was  owing  to 
the  nature  of  his  studies. 

*  You  are  often  on  this  tower  alone  at  night  ? '  she 
said. 

*  Yes ;  at  this  time  of  the  year  particularly,  and 
while  there  is  no  moon.  I  observe  from  seven  or 
eight  till  about  two  in  the  morning,  with  a  view  to  my 

9 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

great  work  on  variable  stars.     But  with  such  a  telescope 
as  this — well,  I  must  put  up  with  it ! ' 

*  Can  you  see  Saturn's  ring  and  Jupiter's  moons  ?* 
He  said  drily  that  he  could  manage  to  do  that,  not 

without  some  contempt  for  the  state  of  her  knowledge. 

*  I  have  never  seen  any  planet  or  star  through  a 
telescope.' 

*  If  you  will  come  the  first  clear  night,  Lady  Con- 
stantine,  I  will  show  you  any  number.  I  mean,  at 
your  express  wish  ;  not  otherwise.' 

'  I  should  like  to  come,  and  possibly  may  at  some 
time.  These  stars  that  vary  so  much — sometimes 
evening  stars,  sometimes  morning  stars,  sometimes  in 
the  east,  and  sometimes  in  the  west — have  always 
interested  me.' 

'  Ah — now  there  is  a  reason  for  your  not  coming. 
Your  ignorance  of  the  realities  of  astronomy  is  so 
satisfactory  that  I  will  not  disturb  it  except  at  your 
serious  request.' 

*  But  I  wish  to  be  enlightened.' 

*  Let  me  caution  you  against  it.* 

*  Is  enlightenment  on  the  subject,  then,  so  terrible  ?  ' 

*  Yes,  indeed.' 

She  laughingly  declared  that  nothing  could  have  so 
piqued  her  curiosity  as  his  statement,  and  turned  to 
descend.  He  helped  her  down  the  stairs  and  through 
the  briers.  He  would  have  gone  further  and  crossed 
the  open  corn-land  with  her,  but  she  preferred  to  go 
alone.  He  then  retraced  his  way  to  the  top  of  the 
column,  but,  instead  of  looking  longer  at  the  sun, 
watched  her  diminishing  towards  the  distant  fence, 
behind  which  waited  the  carriage.  When  in  the  midst 
of  the  field,  a  dark  spot  on  an  area  of  brown,  there 
crossed  her  path  a  moving  figure,  whom  it  was  as 
difiicult  to  distinguish  from  the  earth  he  trod  as  the 
caterpillar  from  its  leaf,  by  reason  of  the  excellent 
match  between  his  clothes  and  the  clods.  He  was  one 
of  a  dying-out  generation  who  retained  the  principle, 
nearly  unlearnt  now,  that  a  man's  habiliments  should 

ID 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

be  in  harmony  with  his  environment.  Lady  Constan- 
tine  and  this  figure  halted  beside  each  other  for  some 
minutes  ;  then  they  went  on  their  several  ways. 

The  brown  person  was  a  labouring  man  known  to 
the  world  of  Welland  as  Haymoss  (the  encrusted  form 
of  the  word  Amos,  to  adopt  the  phrase  of  philologists). 
The  reason  of  the  halt  had  been  some  inquiries  ad- 
dressed to  him  by  Lady  Constantine. 

'  Who  is  that — Amos  Fry,  I  think  ?  '  she  had  asked. 

'Yes,  my  lady,' said  Haymoss;  *a  homely  barley 
driller,  born  under  the  eaves  of  your  ladyship's  out- 
buildings, in  a  manner  of  speaking, — though  your  lady- 
ship was  neither  born  nor  'tempted  at  that  time.' 

*  Who  lives  in  the  old  house  behind  the  plantation  ?  * 

*  Old  Gammer  Martin,  my  lady,  and  her  grandson.* 

*  He  has  neither  father  nor  mother,  then  ?' 

*  Not  a  single  one,  my  lady.' 

*  Where  was  he  educated  ?  ' 

*  At  Warborne, — a  place  where  they  draw  up  young 
gam'sters'  brains  like  rhubarb  under  a  ninepenny  pan, 
my  lady,  excusing  my  common  way.  They  hit  so 
much  learning  into  en  that  'a  could  talk  like  the  day 
of  Pentecost ;  which  is  a  wonderful  thing  for  a  simple 
boy,  and  his  mother  only  the  plainest  ciphering  woman 
in  the  world.  Warborne  Grammar  School — that's 
where  'twas  'a  went  to.  His  father,  the  reverent 
Pa'son  St.  Cleeve,  made  a  terrible  bruckle  hit  in  's 
marrying,  in  the  sight  of  the  high.  He  were  the 
curate  here,  my  lady,  for  a  length  o'  time.' 

*  Oh,  curate,'  said  Lady  Constantine.  *  It  was 
before  I  knew  the  village.' 

*  Ay,  long  and  merry  ago !  And  he  married  Farmer 
Martin's  daughter — Giles  Martin,  a  limberish  man, 
who  used  to  go  rather  bad  upon  his  legs,  if  you  can 
mind  ?  I  knowed  the  man  well  enough  ;  who  should 
know  en  better  !  The  maid  was  a  poor  windling  thing, 
and,  though  a  playward  piece  o'  flesh  when  he  married 
her,  she  socked  and  sighed,  and  went  out  like  a  snoff ! 
Yes,  my  lady.     Well,  when  Pa'son  St.  Cleeve  married 

II 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

this  homespun  woman  the  toppermost  folk  wouldn't 
speak  to  his  wife.  Then  he  dropped  a  cuss  or  two, 
and  said  he'd  no  longer  get  his  living  by  curing  their 

twopenny  souls  o'such  d nonsense  as  that  (excusing 

my  common  way),  and  he  took  to  farming  straightway, 
and  then  'a  dropped  down  dead  in  a  nor'-west  thunder- 
storm ;  it  being  said — hee-hee  ! — that  Master  God  was 
in  tantrums  wi'en  for  leaving  his  service, — hee-hee! 
I  give  the  story  as  I  heard  it,  my  lady,  but  be  dazed  if 
I  believe  in  such  trumpery  about  folks  in  the  sky,  nor 
anything  else  that's  said  on  'em,  good  or  bad.  Well, 
S within,  the  boy,  was  sent  to  the  grammar  school,  as 
I  say  for ;  but  what  with  having  two  stations  of  life  in 
his  blood  he's  good  for  nothing,  my  lady.  He  mopes 
about — sometimes  here,  and  sometimes  there  ;  nobodv 
troubles  about  en.' 

Lady  Constantine  thanked  her  informant  and  pro- 
ceeded onward.  To  her,  as  a  woman,  the  most  curious 
feature  in  the  afternoon's  incident  was  that  this  lad  of 
striking  beauty,  scientific  attainments,  and  cultivated 
bearing,  should  be  linked  on  the  maternal  side  with  a 
local  agricultural  family  through  his  father's  matri- 
monial eccentricity.  A  more  attractive  feature  in  the 
case  was  that  the  same  youth,  so  capable  of  being 
ruined  by  flattery,  blandishment,  pleasure,  even  gross 
prosperity,  should  be  at  present  living  on  in  a  primi- 
tive Eden  of  unconsciousness,  with  aims  towards  whose 
accomplishment  a  Caliban  shape  would  have  been  as 
effective  as  his  own. 


II 

SwiTHiN  St.  Cleeve  lingered  on  at  his  post  until 
the  more  sanguine  birds  of  the  plantation,  already 
recovering  from  their  midwinter  anxieties,  piped  a 
short  evening  hymn  to  the  vanishing  sun. 

The  landscape  was  gently  concave ;  with  the 
exception  of  tower  and  hill  there  were  no  points  on 
which  late  rays  might  linger ;  and  hence  the  dish- 
shaped  fifty  acres  of  tilled  land  assumed  a  uniform 
hue  of  shade  quite  suddenly.  The  one  or  two  stars 
that  appeared  were  quickly  clouded  over,  and  it  was 
soon  obvious  that  there  would  be  no  sweeping  the 
heavens  that  night.  After  tying  a  piece  of  tarpaulin, 
which  had  once  seen  service  on  his  maternal  grand- 
father's farm,  over  all  the  apparatus  around  him,  he 
went  down  the  stairs  in  the  dark,  and  locked  the  door. 

With  the  key  in  his  pocket  he  descended  through 
the  underwood  on  the  side  of  the  slope  opposite  to 
that  trodden  by  Lady  Constantine,  and  crossed  the 
field  in  a  line  mathematically  straight,  and  in  a  manner 
that  left  no  traces,  by  keeping  in  the  same  furrow  all 
the  way  on  tiptoe.  In  a  few  minutes  he  reached  a 
little  dell,  which  occurred  quite  unexpectedly  on  the 
other  side  of  the  field -fence,  and  descended  to  a 
venerable  thatched  house,  whose  enormous  roof, 
broken  up  by  dormers  as  big  as  haycocks,  could  be 
seen  even  in  the  twilight.  Over  the  white  walls, 
built  of  chalk  in  the  lump,  outlines  of  creepers  formed 
dark  patterns,  as  if  drawn  in  charcoal. 

Inside  the  house  his   maternal  grandmother  was 

13 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

sitting  by  a  wood  fire.  Before  it  stood  a  pipkin,  in 
which  something  was  evidently  kept  warm.  An 
eio'ht-legged  oak  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room 
was  laid  for  a  meal.  This  woman  of  eighty,  in  a 
large  mob  cap,  under  which  she  wore  a  little  cap  to 
keep  the  other  clean,  retained  faculties  but  little 
blunted.  She  was  gazing  into  the  flames,  with  her 
hands  upon  her  knees,  quietly  re-enacting  in  her  brain 
certain  of  the  long  chain  of  episodes,  pathetic,  tragical, 
and  humorous,  which  had  constituted  the  parish 
history  for  the  last  sixty  years.  On  Swithin's  entry 
she  looked  up  at  him  in  a  sideway  direction. 

*  You  should  not  have  waited  for  me,  granny,'  he 
said. 

*'Tis  of  no  account,  my  child.  I've  had  a  nap 
while  sitting  here.  Yes,  I've  had  a  nap,  and  went 
straight  back  into  my  old  county  again,  as  usual.  The 
place  was  as  natural  as  when  I  left  it, — e'en  just  three- 
score years  ago !  All  the  folks  and  my  old  aunt  were 
there,  as  when  I  was  a  child, — yet  I  suppose  if  I  were 
really  to  set  out  and  go  there,  hardly  a  soul  would 
be  left  alive  to  say  to  me,  dog  how  art !  But  tell 
Hannah  to  stir  her  stumps  and  serve  supper — though 
I'd  fain  do  it  myself,  the  poor  old  soul  is  getting  so 
unhandy ! ' 

Hannah  revealed  herself  to  be  much  nimbler  and 
several  years  younger  than  granny,  though  of  this  the 
latter  seemed  to  be  oblivious.  When  the  meal  was 
nearly  over  Mrs.  Martin  produced  the  contents  of  the 
mysterious  vessel  by  the  fire,  saying  that  she  had 
caused  it  to  be  brought  in  from  the  back  kitchen, 
because  Hannah  was  hardly  to  be  trusted  with  such 
things,  she  was  becoming  so  childish. 

'What  is  it,  then?'  said  Swithin.  'Oh,  one  of 
your  special  puddings.'  At  sight  of  it,  however,  he 
added  reproachfully,  '  Now,  granny  ! ' 

Instead  of  being  round,  it  was  in  shape  an  irregular 
boulder  that  had  been  exposed  to  the  weather  for 
centuries — a  little  scrap   pared  off  here,  and  a  little 

14 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

piece  cut  away  there  ;  the  general  aim  being,  never- 
theless, to  avoid  destroying  the  symmetry  of  the 
pudding  while  taking  as  much  as  possible  of  its 
substance. 

*  The  fact  is,'  added  Swithin,  *  the  pudding  is 
half  gone ! ' 

'  I've  only  sliced  off  the  merest  paring  once  or 
twice,  to  taste  if  it  was  well  done  ! '  pleaded  Granny 
Martin,  with  wounded  feelings.  '  I  said  to  Hannah 
when  she  took  it  up,  "  Put  it  here  to  keep  it  hot,  as 
there's  a  better  fire  than  in  the  back  kitchen." ' 

'  Well,  I  am  not  going  to  eat  any  of  it,  chopped 
round  like  that ! '  said  Swithin  decisively,  as  he  rose 
from  the  table,  pushed  away  his  chair,  and  went  up- 
stairs ;  the  'other  station  of  life  that  was  in  his  blood,' 
and  which  had  been  brought  out  by  the  grammar 
school,  probably  stimulating  him. 

*  Ah,  the  world  is  an  ungrateful  place !  *Twas  a 
pity  I  didn't  take  my  poor  name  off  this  earthly 
calendar  and  creep  under  ground  sixty  long  years 
ago,  instead  of  leaving  my  own  county  to  come  here ! ' 
mourned  old  Mrs.  Martin.  '  But  I  told  his  mother 
how  'twould  be — marrying  so  many  notches  above  her. 
The  child  was  sure  to  chaw  high,  like  his  father ! ' 

When  Swithin  had  been  upstairs  a  minute  or  two, 
however,  he  altered  his  mind,  and  coming  down  again 
ate  all  the  pudding,  with  the  aspect  of  a  person  under- 
taking a  deed  of  great  magnanimity.  The  relish  with 
which  he  did  so  restored  the  unison  that  knew  no 
more  serious  interruptions  than  such  as  this. 

*  Mr.  Torkingham  has  been  here  this  afternoon,' 
said  his  grandmother  :  *  and  he  wants  me  to  let  him 
meet  some  of  the  choir  here  to-night  for  practice. 
They  who  live  at  this  end  of  the  parish  won't  go  to 
his  house  to  try  over  the  tunes,  because  'tis  so  far, 
they  say ;  and  so  'tis,  poor  men.  So  he's  going  to 
see  what  coming  to  them  will  do.  He  asks  if  you 
would  like  to  join.' 

*  I  would  if  I  had  not  so  much  to  do.' 

15 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  But  it  is  cloudy  to-night.' 

*  Yes  ;  but  I  have  calculations  without  end,  granny. 
Now,  don't  you  tell  him  I'm  in  the  house,  will  you? 
and  then  he'll  not  ask  for  me.' 

'  But  if  he  should,  must  I  then  tell  a  lie,  Lord  for- 
give me  ?  * 

'  No,  you  can  say  I'm  upstairs ;  he  must  think 
what  he  likes.  Not  a  word  about  the  astronomy  to 
any  of  them,  whatever  you  do.  I  should  be  called  a 
visionary,  and  all  sorts.' 

'  So  thou  beest,  child.  Why  can't  ye  do  something 
that's  of  use  ?  ' 

At  the  sound  of  footsteps  Swithin  beat  a  hasty 
retreat  upstairs,  where  he  struck  a  light,  and  revealed 
a  table  covered  with  books  and  papers,  while  round 
the  walls  hung  star-maps  and  other  diagrams  illustra- 
tive of  celestial  phenomena.  In  a  corner  stood  a 
huge  pasteboard  tube,  which  a  close  inspection  would 
have  shown  to  be  intended  for  a  telescope.  Swithin 
hung  a  thick  cloth  over  the  window  in  addition  to  the 
curtains,  and  sat  down  to  his  papers.  On  the  ceiling 
was  a  black  stain  of  smoke,  and  under  this  he  placed 
his  lamp,  evidencing  that  the  midnight  oil  was  con- 
sumed on  that  precise  spot  very  often. 

Meanwhile  there  had  entered  to  the  room  below 
a  personage  who,  to  judge  from  her  voice  and  the 
quick  pit-pat  of  her  feet,  was  a  maiden  young  and 
blithe.  Mrs.  Martin  welcomed  her  by  the  title  of 
Miss  Tabitha  Lark,  and  inquired  what  wind  had 
brought  her  that  way ;  to  which  the  visitor  replied 
that  she  had  come  for  the  singing. 

*  Sit  ye  down,  then,'  said  granny.  *  And  do  you 
still  go  to  the  House  to  read  to  my  lady  .^ ' 

*  Yes,  I  go  and  read,  Mrs.  Martin ;  but  as  to 
getting  my  lady  to  hearken,  that's  more  than  a  team 
of  six  horses  could  force  her  to  do.* 

The  girl  had  a  remarkably  smart  and  fluent  utter- 
ance, which  was  probably  a  cause,  or  a  consequence, 
of  her  vocation. 

i6 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  *Tis  the  same  story,  then  ? '  said  grandmother 
Martin. 

*  Yes.  Eaten  out  with  h'stlessness.  She's  neither 
sick  nor  sorry,  but  how  dull  and  dreary  she  is,  only 
herself  can  tell.  When  I  get  there  in  the  morning 
she  is  sitting  in  bed,  for  my  lady  doesn't  care  to 
get  up ;  and  then  she  makes  me  bring  this  book 
and  that  book,  till  the  bed  is  heaped  up  with  im- 
mense volumes  that  half  bury  her,  making  her  look, 
as  she  leans  upon  her  elbow,  like  the  stoning  of 
Stephen.  She  yawns ;  then  she  looks  towards  the 
tall  glass  ;  then  she  looks  out  at  the  weather,  mooning 
her  great  black  eyes,  and  fixing  them  on  the  sky  as 
if  they  stuck  there,  while  my  tongue  goes  flick-flack 
along,  a  hundred  and  fifty  words  a  minute ;  then  she 
looks  at  the  clock;  then  she  asks  me  what  I've  been 
reading.' 

*  Ah,  poor  soul !  *  said  granny.  *  No  doubt  she  says 
in  the  morning,  **  Would  God  it  were  evening,"  and 
in  the  evening,  **  Would  God  it  were  morning,"  like 
the  disobedient  woman  in  Deuteronomy.' 

Swithin  in  the  room  overhead  had  suspended  his 
calculations,  for  the  duologue  interested  him.  There 
now  crunched  heavier  steps  outside  the  door,  and  his 
grandmother  could  be  heard  greeting  sundry  local 
representatives  of  the  bass  and  tenor  voice,  who  lent 
a  cheerful  and  well-known  personality  to  the  names 
Sammy  Blore,  Nat  Chapman,  Hezekiah  Biles,  and 
Haymoss  Fry  (the  latter  being  one  with  whom  the 
reader  has  already  a  distant  acquaintance) ;  besides 
these  came  small  producers  of  treble,  who  had  not  yet 
developed  into  such  distinctive  units  of  society  as  to 
require  particularizing. 

'Is  the  good  man  come.f^'  asked  Nat  Chapman. 
*  No, — I  see  we  be  here  afore  him.  And  how  is  it 
with  aged  women  to-night,  Mrs.  Martin  ? ' 

*  Tedious  traipsing  enough  with  this  one,  Nat. 
Sit  ye  down.  Well,  little  Freddy,  you  don't  wish 
in  the  morning  that  'twere  evening,  and  at  evening 

17 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

that  'twere  morning  again,  do  you,  Freddy,  trust  'ee 
for  it?' 

'  Now,  who  might  wish  such  a  thing  as  that,  Mrs. 
Martin  ? — nobody  in  this  parish  ?  *  asked  Sammy  Blore 
curiously. 

*  My  lady  is  always  wishing  it/  spoke  up  Miss 
Tabitha  Lark. 

*0h,  she!  Nobody  can  be  answerable  for  the 
wishes  of  that  onnatural  tribe  of  mankind.  Not  but 
that  the  woman's  heart-strings  is  tried  in  many  aggra- 
vating ways.' 

*  Ah,  poor  woman  ! '  said  granny.  *  The  state  she 
finds  herself  in — neither  maid,  wife,  nor  widow — is  not 
the  primest  form  of  life  for  keeping  in  good  spirits. 
How  long  is  it  since  she  has  heard  from  Sir  Blount, 
Tabitha  ? ' 

*  Two  years  and  more,*  said  the  young  woman. 
*  He  went  into  one  side  of  Africa  as  it  might  be  three 
St.  Martin's  days  back.  I  can  mind  it,  because  'twas 
my  birthday.  And  he  meant  to  come  out  the  other 
side.      But  he  didn't.      He  has  never  come  out  at  all.' 

*  For  all  the  world  like  losing  a  rat  in  a  barley- 
mow,'  said  Hezekiah.  *  He's  lost,  though  you  know 
where  he  is.' 

His  comrades  nodded. 

*  Ay,  my  lady  is  a  walking  weariness.  I  seed  her 
yawn  just  at  the  very  moment  when  the  fox  was  hal- 
loaed away  by  Lornton  Copse,  and  the  hounds  runned 
en  all  but  past  her  carriage  wheels.  If  I  were  she 
I'd  see  a  little  life ;  though  there's  no  fair,  club- 
walking,  nor  feast  to  speak  of,  till  Easter  week, — that's 
true.' 

'  She  dares  not.  She's  under  solemn  oath  to  do 
no  such  thing.' 

*  Be  cust  if  I  would  keep  any  such  oath !  But 
here's  the  pa'son,  if  my  ears  don't  deceive  me.' 

There  was  a  noise  of  horse's  hoofs  without,  a 
stumbling  against  the  door-scraper,  a  tethering  to  the 
window-shutter,  a  creaking  of  the  door  on  its  hinges, 

i8 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  a  voice  which  Swithin  recognized  as  Mr.  Torkinor. 
ham's.  He  greeted  each  of  the  previous  arrivals  by- 
name, and  stated  that  he  was  glad  to  see  them  all  so 
punctually  assembled. 

'Ay,  sir,'  said  Haymoss  Fry.  '  Tis  only  my  jints 
that  have  kept  me  from  assembling  myself  long  ago. 
I'd  assemble  upon  the  top  of  Welland  Steeple,  if 
'tweren't  for  my  jints.  I  assure  'ee,  Pa'son  Tarken- 
ham,  that  in  the  clitch  o'  my  knees,  where  the  rain 
used  to  come  through  when  I  was  cutting  clots  for 
the  new  lawn  in  old  my  lady's  time,  'tis  as  if  rats  wez 
gnawing  every  now  and  then.  When  a  feller's  young 
he's  too  small  in  the  brain  to  see  how  soon  a  constitu- 
tion can  be  squandered,  worse  luck  ! ' 

*  True,'  said  Biles,  to  fill  the  time  while  the  parson 
was  engaged  in  finding  the  Psalms.  *  A  man's  a  fool 
till  he's  forty.  Often  have  I  thought,  when  hay- 
pitching,  and  the  small  of  my  back  seeming  no  stouter 
than  a  harnet's,  **  The  devil  send  that  I  had  but  the 
making  of  labouring  men  for  a  twelvemonth!"  I'd 
gie  every  man-jack  two  good  backbones,  even  if  the 
alteration  was  as  wrong  as  forgery.' 

*  Four, — four  backbones,'  said  Haymoss  decisively. 

*  Yes,  four,'  threw  in  Sammy  Blore,  with  additional 
weight  of  experience.  *  For  you  want  one  in  front 
for  breast-ploughing  and  such  like,  one  at  the  right 
side  for  ground-dressing,  and  one  at  the  left  side  for 
turning  mixens.' 

'Well ;  then  next  I'd  move  every  man's  wyndpipe 
a  good  span  away  from  his  glutchpipe,  so  that  at 
harvest  time  he  could  fetch  breath  in  's  drinking, 
without  being  choked  and  strangled  as  he  is  now. 
Thinks  I,  when  I  feel  the  victuals  going — ' 

*  Now,  we'll  begin,'  interrupted  Mr.  Torkingham, 
his  mind  returning  to  this  world  again  on  concluding 
his  search  for  a  psalm. 

Thereupon  the  racket  of  chair-legs  on  the  floor 
signified  that  they  were  settling  into  their  seats, — a 
disturbance  which  Swithin  took  advantage  of  by  going 

19 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

on  tiptoe  across  the  floor  above,  and  putting  sheets  of 
paper  over  knot-holes  in  the  boarding  at  points  where 
carpet  was  lacking,  that  his  lamp-light  might  not  shine 
down.  The  absence  of  a  ceiling  beneath  rendered  his 
position  virtually  that  of  one  suspended  in  the  same 
apartment. 

The  parson  announced  Psalm  fifty-third  to  the  tune 
of  *  Devizes,'  and  his  voice  burst  forth  with 

*  The  Lord  look'd  down  from  Heaven's  high  tower 
The  sons  of  men  to  view,' 

in  notes  of  rigid  cheerfulness. 

In  this  start,  however,  he  was  joined  only  by  the 
girls  and  boys,  the  men  furnishing  but  an  accompani- 
ment of  ahas  and  hems.  Mr.  Torkingham  stopped, 
and  Sammy  Blore  spoke, — 

*  Beg  your  pardon,  sir, — if  you'll  deal  mild  with  us 
a  moment.  What  with  the  wind  and  walking,  my 
throat's  as  rough  as  a  grater ;  and  not  knowing  you 
were  going  to  hit  up  that  minute,  I  hadn't  hawked, 
and  I  don't  think  Hezzy  and  Nat  had,  either, — had  ye, 
souls  ? ' 

*  I  hadn't  got  thorough  ready,  that's  true,'  said 
Hezekiah. 

'  Quite  right  of  you,  then,  to  speak,'  said  Mr.  Tor- 
kingham. '  Don't  mind  explaining ;  we  are  here  for 
practice.  Now  clear  your  throats,  then,  and  at  it 
again.* 

There  was  a  noise  as  of  atmospheric  hoes  and 
scrapers,  and  the  bass  contingent  at  last  got  under 
way  with  a  time  of  its  own  : 

*  The  Lard  looked  down  vrom  Heav'n's  high  tower!  * 

*  Ah,  that's  where  we  are  so  defective — the  pronun- 
ciation,' interrupted  the  parson.  *  Now  repeat  after 
me:  **  The  Lord  look'd  down  from  Heav'n's  high 
tower." ' 

The  choir  repeated  like  an  exaggerative  echo : 
*The  Lawd  look'd  daown  from  Heav'n's  high 
towah !  * 

20 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Better ! '  said  the  parson,  in  the  strenuously  san- 
guine tones  of  a  man  who  got  his  living  by  discover- 
ing a  bright  side  in  things  where  it  was  not  very  per- 
ceptible to  other  people.  '  But  it  should  not  be  given 
with  quite  so  extreme  an  accent ;  or  we  may  be  called 
affected  by  other  parishes.  And,  Nathaniel  Chapman, 
there's  a  jauntiness  in  your  manner  of  singing  which 
is  not  quite  becoming.  Why  don't  you  sing  more 
earnestly  ? ' 

*  My  conscience  won't  let  me,  sir.  They  say  every 
man  for  himself:  but,  thank  God,  I'm  not  so  mean  as 
to  lessen  old  fokes'  chances  by  being  earnest  at  my 
time  o'  life,  and  they  so  much  nearer  the  need  o't.' 

'  It's  bad  reasoning,  Nat,  I  fear.  Now,  perhaps  we 
had  better  sol-fa  the  tune.  Eyes  on  your  books,  please. 
Doe  !  doe-ray -viee  ' — 

*  I  can't  sing  like  that,  not  I  ! '  said  Sammy  Blore, 
with  condemnatory  astonishment.  *  I  can  sing  genuine 
music,  like  F  and  G ;  but  not  anything  so  much  out  of 
the  order  of  nater  as  that.' 

*  Perhaps  you've  brought  the  wrong  book,  sir  ?  * 
chimed  in  Haymoss,  kindly.  'I've  knowed  music 
early  in  life  and  late, — in  short,  ever  since  Luke  Sneap 
broke  his  new  fiddle-bow  in  the  wedding  psalm,  when 
Pa'son  Wilton  brought  home  his  bride  (you  can  mind 
the  time,  Sammy? — when  we  sung  "His  wife,  like  a 
fair  fertile  vine,  her  lovely  fruit  shall  bring,"  when  the 
young  woman  turned  as  red  as  a  rose,  not  knowing 
'twas  coming).  I've  knowed  music  ever  since  then,  I 
say,  sir,  and  never  heard  the  like  o'  that.  Every 
martel  note  had  his  name  of  A,  B,  C,  at  that  time.' 

*  Yes,  yes,  men  ;  but  this  is  a  more  recent  system  ! ' 

*  Still,  you  can't  alter  a  old-established  note  that's 
A  or  B  by  nater,'  rejoined  Haymoss,  with  yet  deeper 
conviction  that  Mr.  Torkingham  was  getting  off  his 
head.  *  Now  sound  A,  neighbour  Sammy,  and  let's 
have  a  slap  at  Heav'n's  high  tower  again,  and  show 
the  Pa'son  the  true  way  ! ' 

Sammy  produced  a  private  tuning-fork,  black  and 

21 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

grimy,  which,  being  about  seventy  years  of  age,  and 
wrought  before  pianoforte  builders  had  sent  up  the 
pitch  to  make  their  instruments  brilliant,  was  nearly  a 
note  flatter  than  the  parson's.  While  an  argument 
as  to  the  true  pitch  was  in  progress  there  came  a 
knocking  without. 

*  Somebody's  at  the  door ! '  said  a  little  treble  girl. 

*  Thought  I  heard  a  knock  before ! '  said  the  relieved 
choir. 

The  latch  was  lifted,  and  a  man  asked  from  the 
darkness,  *  Is  Mr.  Torkingham  here  ?* 

*  Yes,  Mills.     What  do  you  want  ?  * 
It  was  the  parson's  man. 

*  O,  if  you  please,'  said  Mills,  showing  an  advanced 
margin  of  himself  round  the  door,  *  Lady  Constantine 
wants  to  see  you  very  particular,  sir,  and  could  you  call 
on  her  after  dinner,  if  you  ben't  engaged  with  poor 
folks  ?  She's  just  had  a  letter, — so  they  say, — and  it's 
about  that,  I  believe.* 

Finding,  on  looking  at  his  watch,  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  start  at  once  if  he  meant  to  see  her  that  night, 
the  parson  cut  short  the  practising,  and,  naming 
another  night  for  meeting,  he  withdrew.  All  the 
singers  assisted  him  on  to  his  cob,  and  watched  him 
till  he  disappeared  over  the  edge  of  the  Bottom. 


Ill 

Mr.  Torkingham  trotted  briskly  onward  to  his  house, 
a  distance  of  about  a  mile,  each  cottage,  as  it  revealed 
its  half-buried  position  by  its  single  light,  appearing 
like  a  one-eyed  night  creature  watching  him  from  an 
ambush.  Leaving  his  horse  at  the  parsonage  he  per- 
formed the  remainder  of  the  journey  on  foot,  crossing 
the  park  towards  Welland  House  by  a  stile  and  path 
till  he  struck  into  the  drive  near  the  north  door  of  the 
mansion. 

This  drive,  it  may  be  remarked,  was  also  the  com- 
mon highway  to  the  lower  village,  and  hence  Lady 
Constantine's  residence  and  park,  as  is  occasionally  the 
case  with  old-fashioned  manors,  possessed  none  of  the 
exclusiveness  found  in  some  aristocratic  settlements. 
The  parishioners  looked  upon  the  park  avenue  as 
their  natural  thoroughfare,  particularly  for  christenings, 
weddings,  and  funerals,  which  passed  the  squire's 
mansion  with  due  considerations  as  to  the  scenic  effect 
of  the  same  from  the  manor  windows.  Hence  the 
house  of  Constantine,  when  going  out  from  its  break- 
fast, had  been  continually  crossed  on  the  doorstep  for 
the  last  two  hundred  years  by  the  houses  of  Hodge  and 
Giles  in  full  cry  to  dinner.  At  present  these  collisions 
were  but  too  infrequent,  for  though  the  villagers  passed 
the  north  front  door  as  regularly  as  ever,  they  seldom 
met  a  Constantine.  Only  one  was  there  to  be  met, 
and  she  had  no  zest  for  outings  before  noon. 

The  long,  low  front  of  the  Great  House,  as  it  was 
called  by  the  parish,  stretching  from  end  to  end  of  the 

23 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

terrace,  was  in  darkness  as  the  vicar  slackened  his 
pace  before  it,  and  only  the  distant  fall  of  water 
disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  manorial  precincts. 

On  gaining  admittance  he  found  Lady  Constantine 
waiting  to  receive  him.  She  wore  a  heavy  dress  of 
velvet  and  lace,  and  being  the  only  person  in  the 
spacious  apartment  she  looked  small  and  isolated.  In 
her  left  hand  she  held  a  letter  and  a  couple  of  at-home 
cards.  The  soft  dark  eyes  which  she  raised  to  him  as 
he  entered — large,  and  melancholy  by  circumstance 
far  more  than  by  quality— were  the  natural  indices  of 
a  warm  and  affectionate,  perhaps  slightly  voluptuous 
temperament,  languishing  for  want  of  something  to 
do,  cherish,  or  suffer  for. 

Mr.  Torkingham  seated  himself.  His  boots,  which 
had  seemed  elegant  in  the  farm-house,  appeared  rather 
clumsy  here,  and  his  coat,  that  was  a  model  of  tailor- 
ing when  he  stood  amid  the  choir,  now  exhibited 
decidedly  strained  relations  with  his  limbs.  Three 
years  had  passed  since  his  induction  to  the  living 
of  Welland,  but  he  had  never  as  yet  found  means 
to  establish  that  reciprocity  with  Lady  Constantine 
which  usually  grows  up,  in  the  course  of  time,  between 
parsonage  and  manor-house, — unless,  indeed,  either 
side  should  surprise  the  other  by  showing  respectively 
a  weakness  for  awkward  modern  ideas  on  landowner- 
ship,  or  on  church  formulas,  which  had  not  been  the 
case  here.  The  present  meeting,  however,  seemed 
likely  to  initiate  such  a  reciprocity. 

There  was  an  appearance  of  confidence  on  Lady 
Constantine's  face  ;  she  said  she  was  so  very  glad  that 
he  had  come,  and  looking  down  at  the  letter  in  her 
hand  was  on  the  point  of  pulling  it  from  its  envelope ; 
but  she  did  not.  After  a  moment  she  went  on  more 
quickly  :  '  I  wanted  your  advice,  or  rather  your  opinion, 
on  a  serious  matter, — on  a  point  of  conscience.'  Say- 
ing which  she  laid  down  the  letter  and  looked  at  the 
cards. 

It  might  have  been  apparent  to  a  more  penetrating 

24 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

eye  than  the  vicars  that  Lady  Constantlne,  either 
from  timidity,  misgiving,  or  reconviction,  had  swerved 
from  her  intended  communication,  or  perhaps  decided 
to  begin  at  the  other  end. 

The  parson,  who  had  been  expecting  a  question 
on  some  local  business  or  intelligence,  at  the  tenor  of 
her  words  altered  his  face  to  the  higher  branch  of  his 
profession. 

*  1  hope  I  may  find  myself  of  service,  on  that  or 
any  other  question,'  he  said  gently. 

*  I  hope  so.  You  may  possibly  be  aware,  Mr. 
Torklngham,  that  my  husband.  Sir  Blount  Constan- 
tine,  was,  not  to  mince  matters,  a  mistaken — some- 
what jealous  man.  Yet  you  may  hardly  have  discerned 
it  in  the  short  time  you  knew  him.' 

*  I  had  some  little  knowledge  of  Sir  Blount's 
character  in  that  respect.' 

*  Well,  on  this  account  my  married  life  with  him 
was  not  of  the  most  comfortable  kind.'  (Lady  Con- 
stantine's  voice  dropped  to  a  more  pathetic  note.)  *  I 
am  sure  I  gave  him  no  cause  for  suspicion  ;  though 
had  I  known  his  disposition  sooner  I  should  hardly 
have  dared  to  marry  him.  But  his  jealousy  and  doubt 
of  me  were  not  so  strong  as  to  divert  him  from  a 
purpose  of  his, — a  mania  for  African  lion-hunting, 
which  he  dignified  by  calling  it  a  scheme  of  geogra- 
phical discovery  ;  for  he  was  inordinately  anxious  to 
make  a  name  for  himself  In  that  field.  It  was  the  one 
passion  that  was  stronger  than  his  mistrust  of  me. 
Before  going  away  he  sat  down  with  me  in  this  room, 
and  read  me  a  lecture,  which  resulted  in  a  very  rash 
offer  on  my  part.     When  I  tell  it  to  you,  you  will  find 

f  that  it  provides  a  key  to  all  that  is  unusual  in  my  life 
here.  He  bade  me  consider  what  my  position  would 
be  when  he  was  gone  ;  hoped  that  I  should  remember 
what  was  due  to  him, — that  I  would  not  so  behave 
towards  other  men  as  to  bring  the  name  of  Constantlne 
into  suspicion ;  and  charged  me  to  avoid  levity  of 
conduct  in  attending  any  ball,  rout,  or  dinner  to  which 

25 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

I  might  be  invited.  I,  in  some  contempt  for  his  low 
opinion  of  me,  volunteered,  there  and  then,  to  live 
like  a  cloistered  nun  during  his  absence  ;  to  go  into 
no  society  whatever, — scarce  even  to  a  neighbour's 
dinner-party ;  and  demanded  bitterly  if  that  would 
satisfy  him.  He  said  yes,  held  me  to  my  word,  and 
gave  me  no  loophole  for  retracting  it.  The  inevitable 
fruits  of  precipitancy  have  resulted  to  me  :  my  life  has 
become  a  burden.  I  get  such  invitations  as  these* 
(holding  up  the  cards),  *  but  I  so  invariably  refuse 
them  that  they  are  getting  very  rare.  ...  I  ask  you, 
can  I  honestly  break  that  promise  to  my  husband  ? ' 

Mr.  Torkingham  seemed  embarrassed.  *  If  you 
promised  Sir  Blount  Constantine  to  live  in  solitude  till 
he  comes  back,  you  are,  it  seems  to  me,  bound  by  that 
promise.  I  fear  that  the  wish  to  be  released  from 
your  engagement  is  to  some  extent  a  reason  why 
it  should  be  kept.  But  your  own  conscience  would 
surely  be  the  best  guide,  Lady  Constantine  }  * 

*  My  conscience  is  quite  bewildered  with  its  re- 
sponsibilities,' she  continued,  with  a  sigh.  *  Yet  it 
certainly  does  sometimes  say  to  me  that — that  I  ought 
to  keep  my  word.  Very  well ;  I  must  go  on  as  I  am 
going,  I  suppose.* 

*  If  you  respect  a  vow,  I  think  you  must  respect 
your  own,*  said  the  parson,  acquiring  some  further 
firmness.  *  Had  it  been  wrung  from  you  by  compul- 
sion, moral  or  physical,  it  would  have  been  open  to 
you  to  break  it.  But  as  you  proposed  a  vow  when 
your  husband  only  required  a  good  intention,  I  think 
you  ought  to  adhere  to  it ;  or  what  is  the  pride  worth 
that  led  you  to  offer  it } ' 

*  Very  well,'  she  said,  with  resignation.  *  But  it 
was  quite  a  work  of  supererogation  on  my  part.* 

*  That  you  proposed  it  in  a  supererogatory  spirit 
does  not  lessen  your  obligation,  having  once  put  your- 
self under  that  obligation.  St.  Paul,  in  his  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews,  says,  "An  oath  for  confirmation  is 
an  end  of  all  strife."     And  you  will  readily  recall  the 

26 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

words  in  Ecclesiastes,  "  Pay  that  which  thou  hast 
vowed.  Better  is  it  that  thou  shouldest  not  vow  than 
that  thou  shouldest  vow  and  not  pay."  Why  not  write 
to  Sir  Blount,  tell  him  the  inconvenience  of  such  a 
bond,  and  ask  him  to  release  you  ? ' 

'No;  never  will  I.  The  expression  of  such  a 
desire  would,  in  his  mind,  be  a  sufficient  reason  for 
disallowing  it.      I'll  keep  my  word.' 

Mr.  Torkingham  rose  to  leave.  After  she  had 
held  out  her  hand  to  him,  when  he  had  crossed  the 
room,  and  was  within  two  steps  of  the  door,  she  said, 
*  Mr.  Torkingham.'  He  stopped.  '  What  I  have  told 
you  is  only  the  least  part  of  what  I  sent  for  you  to  tell 
you.' 

Mr.  Torkingham  walked  back  to  her  side.  '  What 
is  the  rest  of  it,  then  ? '  he  asked,  with  grave  surprise. 

*  It  is  a  true  revelation,  as  far  as  it  goes ;  but  there 
IS  something  more.  I  have  received  this  letter,  and  I 
wanted  to  say — something.' 

*  Then  say  it  now,  my  dear  lady.' 

*  No,'  she  answered,  with  a  look  of  utter  inability. 
'  I  cannot  speak  of  it  now  !  Some  other  time.  Don't 
stay.  Please  consider  this  conversation  as  private. 
Good-night.* 


IV 

It  was  a  bright  starlight  night,  a  week  or  ten  days 
later.  There  had  been  several  such  nights  since  the 
occasion  of  Lady  Constantine's  promise  to  Swithin  St. 
Cleeve  to  come  and  study  astronomical  phenomena  on 
the  Rings-Hill  column  ;  but  she  had  not  gone  there. 
This  evening  she  sat  at  a  window,  the  blind  of  which 
had  not  been  drawn  down.  Her  elbow  rested  on  a 
little  table,  and  her  cheek  on  her  hand.  Her  eyes 
were  attracted  by  the  brightness  of  the  planet  Jupiter, 
as  he  rode  in  the  ecliptic  opposite,  beaming  down  upon 
her  as  if  desirous  of  notice. 

Beneath  the  planet  could  be  still  discerned  the 
dark  edges  of  the  park  landscape  against  the  sky.  As 
one  of  its  features,  though  nearly  screened  by  the 
trees  which  had  been  planted  to  shut  out  the  fallow 
tracts  of  the  estate,  rose  the  upper  part  of  the  column. 
It  was  hardly  visible  now,  even  if  visible  at  all ;  yet 
Lady  Constantine  knew  from  daytime  experience  its 
exact  bearing  from  the  window  at  which  she  leaned. 
The  knowledge  that  there  it  still  was,  despite  its  rapid 
envelopment  by  the  shades,  led  her  lonely  mind  to  her 
late  meeting  on  its  summit  with  the  young  astronomer, 
and  to  her  promise  to  honour  him  with  a  visit  for 
learning  some  secrets  about  the  scintillating  bodies 
overhead.  The  curious  juxtaposition  of  youthful 
ardour  and  old  despair  that  she  had  found  in  the  lad 
would  have  made  him  interesting  to  a  woman  of 
perception,  apart  from  his  fair  hair  and  early-Christian 
face.     But  such  is  the  heightening  touch  of  memory 

28 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

that  his  beauty  was  probably  richer  in  her  imagination 
than  in  the  real.  It  was  a  moot  point  to  consider 
whether  the  temptations  that  would  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  him  in  his  course  would  exceed  the  staying  power 
of  his  nature.  Had  he  been  a  wealthy  youth  he 
would  have  seemed  one  to  tremble  for.  In  spite  of 
his  attractive  ambitions  and  gentlemanly  bearing  she 
thought  it  would  possibly  be  better  for  him  if  he  never 
became  known  outside  his  lonely  tower, — forgetting 
that  he  had  received  such  intellectual  enlarorement  as 

o 

would  probably  make  his  continuance  in  Welland 
seem,  in  his  own  eye,  a  slight  upon  his  father's  branch 
of  his  family,  whose  social  standing  had  been,  only  a 
few  years  earlier,  but  little  removed  from  her  own. 

Suddenly  she  flung  a  cloak  about  her  and  went  out 
on  the  terrace.  She  passed  down  the  steps  to  the 
lower  lawn,  through  the  door  to  the  open  park,  and 
there  stood  still.  The  tower  was  now  discernible. 
As  the  words  in  which  a  thought  is  expressed  develop 
a  further  thought,  so  did  the  fact  of  her  having  got  so 
far  influence  her  to  go  further.  A  person  who  had 
casually  observed  her  gait  would  have  thought  it 
irregular ;  and  the  lessenings  and  increasings  of  speed 
with  which  she  proceeded  in  the  direction  of  the  pillar 
could  be  accounted  for  only  by  a  motive  much  more 
disturbing  than  an  intention  to  look  through  a  telescope. 
Thus  she  went  on  till,  leaving  the  park,  she  crossed 
the  turnpike-road,  and  entered  the  large  field  in  the 
middle  of  which  the  fir-clad  hill  stood  like  Mont  St. 
Michel  in  its  bay. 

The  stars  were  so  bright  as  distinctly  to  show  her 
the  place,  and  now  she  could  see  a  faint  light  at  the 
top  of  the  column,  which  rose  like  a  shadowy  finger 
pointing  to  the  upper  constellations.  There  was  no 
wind,  in  a  human  sense ;  but  a  steady  stertorous 
breathing  from  the  fir-trees  showed  that,  now  as  always, 
there  was  movement  in  apparent  stagnation.  Nothing 
but  an  absolute  vacuum  could  paralyze  their  utterance. 

The  door  of  the  tower  was  shut.      It  was  somethinof 

29 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

more  than  the  freakishness  which  is  engendered  by  a 
sickening  monotony  that  had  led  Lady  Constantine 
thus  far,  and  hence  she  made  no  ado  about  admitting 
herself.  Three  years  ago,  when  her  every  action  was 
a  thing  of  propriety,  she  had  known  of  no  possible 
purpose  which  could  have  led  her  abroad  in  a  manner 
such  as  this. 

She  ascended  the  tower  noiselessly.  On  raising 
her  head  above  the  hatchway  she  beheld  Swithin 
bending  over  a  scroll  of  paper  which  lay  on  the  little 
table  beside  him.  The  small  lantern  that  illuminated 
it  showed  also  that  he  was  warmly  wrapped  up  in  a 
coat  and  thick  cap,  behind  him  standing  the  telescope 
on  its  frame. 

What  was  he  doing  ?  She  looked  over  his 
shoulder  upon  the  paper,  and  saw  figures  and  signs. 
When  he  had  jotted  down  something  he  went  to  the 
telescope  again. 

*  What  are  you  doing  to-night  ? '  she  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

Swithin  started,  and  turned.  The  faint  lamp-light 
was  sufficient  to  reveal  her  face  to  him. 

*  Tedious  work.  Lady  Constantine,'  he  answered, 
without  betraying  much  surprise.  '  Doing  my  best  to 
watch  phenomenal  stars,  as  I  may  call  them.' 

*  You  said  you  would  show  me  the  heavens  if  I 
could  come  on  a  starlight  night.     I  have  come.' 

Swithin,  as  a  preliminary,  swept  round  the  telescope 
to  Jupiter,  and  exhibited  to  her  the  glory  of  that  orb. 
Then  he  directed  the  instrument  to  the  less  bright 
shape  of  Saturn. 

*  Here,'  he  said,  warming  up  to  the  subject,  *  we  see 
a  world  which  is  to  my  mind  by  far  the  most  wonderful 
in  the  solar  system.  Think  of  streams  of  satellites  or 
meteors  racing  round  and  round  the  planet  like  a  fly- 
wheel, so  close  together  as  to  seem  solid  matter  ! '  He 
entered  further  and  further  into  the  subject,  his  ideas 
gathering  momentum  as  he  went  on,  like  his  pet 
heavenly  bodies. 

30 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

When  he  paused  for  breath  she  said,  in  tones  very 
different  from  his  own,  *  I  ought  now  to  tell  you  that, 
though  I  am  interested  in  the  stars,  they  were  not 
what  I  came  to  see  you  about.  ...  I  first  thought  of 
disclosing  the  matter  to  Mr.  Torkingham ;  but  I 
altered  my  mind,  and  decided  on  you.' 

She  spoke  in  so  low  a  voice  that  he  might  not  have 
heard  her.  At  all  events,  abstracted  by  his  grand 
theme,  he  did  not  heed  her.      He  continued, — 

*Well,  we  will  get  outside  the  solar  system 
altogether, — leave  the  whole  group  of  sun,  primary 
and  secondary  planets  quite  behind  us  in  our  flight,  as 
a  bird  might  leave  its  bush  and  sweep  into  the  whole 
forest.  Now  what  do  you  see,  Lady  Constantine  ? ' 
He  levelled  the  achromatic  at  Sirius. 

She  said  that  she  saw  a  bright  star,  though  it  only 
seemed  a  point  of  light  now  as  before. 

*  That's  because  it  is  so  distant  that  no  magnifying 
will  bring  its  size  up  to  zero.  Though  called  a  fixed 
star,  it  is,  like  all  fixed  stars,  moving  with  inconceivable 
velocity ;  but  no  magnifying  will  show  that  velocity  as 
anything  but  rest.' 

And  thus  they  talked  on  about  Sirius,  and  then 
about  other  stars 

.     .     .     in  the  scrowl 
Of  all  those  beasts,  and  fish,  and  fowl. 
With  which,  like  Indian  plantations, 
The  learned  stock  the  constellations, 

till  he  asked  her  how  many  stars  she  thought  were 
visible  to  them  at  that  moment. 

She  looked  around  over  the  magnificent  stretch  of 
sky  that  their  high  position  unfolded.  *  O,  thousands, 
j=— hundreds  of  thousands,'  she  said  absently. 

*  No.  There  are  only  about  three  thousand.  Now, 
how  many  do  you  think  are  brought  within  sight  by 
the  help  of  a  powerful  telescope  ?  ' 

*  I  won't  guess.' 

*  Twenty  millions.  So  that,  whatever  the  stars 
were  made  for,  they  were  not  made  to  please  our  eyes. 

31 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

It  IS  just  the  same  in  everything ;  nothing  is  made  for 
man.' 

*  Is  it  that  notion  which  makes  you  so  sad  for  your 
age  ?  *  she  asked,  with  almost  maternal  solicitude.  *  I 
think  astronomy  is  a  bad  study  for  you.  It  makes  you 
feel  human  insignificance  too  plainly.' 

*  Perhaps  it  does.  However,'  he  added  more 
cheerfully,  *  though  I  feel  the  study  to  be  one  almost 
tragic  in  its  quality,  I  hope  to  be  the  new  Copernicus. 
What  he  was  to  the  solar  system  I  aim  to  be  to  the 
systems  beyond.' 

Then,  by  means  of  the  instrument  at  hand,  they 
travelled  together  from  the  earth  to  Uranus  and  the 
mysterious  outskirts  of  the  solar  system  ;  from  the 
solar  system  to  a  star  in  the  Swan,  the  nearest  fixed 
star  in  the  northern  sky  ;  from  the  star  in  the  Swan  to 
remoter  stars  ;  thence  to  the  remotest  visible  ;  till  the 
ghastly  chasm  which  they  had  bridged  by  a  fragile  line 
of  sight  was  realized  by  Lady  Constantine. 

*  We  are  now  traversing  distances  beside  which  the 
immense  line  stretching  from  the  earth  to  the  sun  Is 
but  an  Invisible  point,'  said  the  youth.  *  When,  just 
now,  we  had  reached  a  planet  whose  remoteness  Is  a 
hundred  times  the  remoteness  of  the  sun  from  the 
earth,  we  were  only  a  two  thousandth  part  of  the 
journey  to  the  spot  at  which  we  have  optically  arrived 
now.' 

*  O,  pray  don't ;  it  overpowers  me !  *  she  replied, 
not  without  seriousness.  *  It  makes  me  feel  that  it  is 
not  worth  while  to  live  ;  it  quite  annihilates  me.' 

*  If  It  annihilates  your  ladyship  to  roam  over  these 
yawning  spaces  just  once,  think  how  it  must  annihilate 
me  to  be,  as  It  were,  in  constant  suspension  amid  them 
night  after  night.' 

'Yes.  ...  It  was  not  really  this  subject  that  I 
came  to  see  you  upon,  Mr.  St.  Cleeve,'  she  began  a 
second  time.     *  It  was  a  personal  matter.' 

*  I  am  listening.  Lady  Constantine.' 

*  I   will  tell   it  you.     Yet   no, — not  this   moment. 

32 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Let  us  finish  this  grand  subject  first  ;  it  dwarfs 
mine.' 

It  would  have  been  difficult  to  judge  from  her 
accents  whether  she  was  afraid  to  broach  her  own 
matter,  or  really  interested  in  his.  Or  a  certain  youth- 
ful pride  that  he  evidenced  at  being  the  elucidator  of 
such  a  large  theme,  and  at  having  drawn  her  there  to 
hear  and  observe  it,  may  have  inclined  her  to  indulge 
him  for  kindness'  sake. 

Thereupon  he  took  exception  to  her  use  of  the 
word  'grand'  as -descriptive  of  the  actual  universe  : 

*  The  imaginary  picture  of  the  sky  as  the  concavity 
of  a  dome  whose  base  extends  from  horizon  to  horizon 
of  our  earth  is  grand,  simply  grand,  and  I  wish  I  had 
never  got  beyond  looking  at  it  in  that  way.  But  the 
actual  sky  is  a  horror.' 

*  A  new  view  of  our  old  friends,  the  stars,'  she  said, 
smiling  up  at  them. 

*  But  such  an  obviously  true  one !  *  said  the  young 
man.  *  You  would  hardly  think,  at  first,  that  horrid 
monsters  lie  up  there  waiting  to  be  discovered  by  any 
moderately  penetrating  mind — monsters  to  which  those 
of  the  oceans  bear  no  sort  of  comparison.' 

*  What  monsters  may  they  be  ?  ' 

*  Impersonal  monsters,  namely,  Immensities.  Until 
a  person  has  thought  out  the  stars  and  their  inter- 
spaces, he  has  hardly  learnt  that  there  are  things  much 
more  terrible  than  monsters  of  shape,  namely,  monsters 
of  magnitude  without  known  shape.  Such  monsters 
are  the  voids  and  waste  places  of  the  sky.  Look,  for 
instance,  at  those  pieces  of  darkness  in  the  Milky 
Way,'  he  went  on,  pointing  with  his  finger  to  where 
the  galaxy  stretched  across  over  their  heads  with  the 
luminousness  of  a  frosted  web.  '  You  see  that  dark 
opening  in  it  near  the  Swan  ?  There  is  a  still  more 
remarkable  one  south  of  the  equator,  called  the  Coal 
Sack,  as  a  sort  of  nickname  that  has  a  farcical  force 
from  its  very  inadequacy.  In  these  our  sight  plunges 
quite  beyond  any  twinkier  we  have  yet  visited.     Those 

33 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

are  deep  wells  for  the  human  mind  to  let  itself  down 
into,  leave  alone  the  human  body !  and  think  of  the 
side  caverns  and  secondary  abysses  to  right  and  left  as 
you  pass  on  ! ' 

Lady  Constantine  was  heedful  and  silent. 

He  tried  to  give  her  yet  another  idea  of  the  size  of 
the  universe  ;  never  was  there  a  more  ardent  endeavour 
to  brino"  down  the  immeasurable  to  human  comprehen- 
sion !  By  figures  of  speech  and  apt  comparisons  he 
took  her  mind  into  leading-strings,  compelling  her  to 
follow  him  into  wildernesses  of  which  she  had  never  in 
her  life  even  realized  the  existence. 

*  There  is  a  size  at  which  dignity  begins,'  he  ex- 
claimed ;  *  further  on  there  is  a  size  at  which  grandeur 
begins ;  further  on  there  is  a  size  at  which  solemnity 
begins  ;  further  on,  a  size  at  which  awfulness  begins  ; 
further  on,  a  size  at  which  ghastliness  begins.  That 
size  faintly  approaches  the  size  of  the  stellar  universe. 
So  am  I  not  right  in  saying  that  those  minds  who  exert 
their  imaginative  powers  to  bury  themselves  in  the 
depths  of  that  universe  merely  strain  their  faculties  to 
gain  a  new  horror  ?  * 

Standing,  as  she  stood,  in  the  presence  of  the  stellar 
universe,  under  the  very  eyes  of  the  constellations, 
Lady  Constantine  apprehended  something  of  the 
earnest  youth's  argument. 

*  And  to  add  a  new  weirdness  to  what  the  sky  pos- 
sesses in  its  size  and  formlessness,  there  is  involved 
the  quality  of  decay.  For  all  the  wonder  of  these 
everlasting  stars,  eternal  spheres,  and  what  not,  they 
are  not  everlasting,  they  are  not  eternal  ;  they  burn 
out  like  candles.  You  see  that  dying  one  in  the  body 
of  the  Greater  Bear  ?  Two  centuries  ago  it  was  as 
bright  as  the  others.  The  senses  may  become  terrified 
by  plunging  among  them  as  they  are,  but  there  is  a 
pitifulness  even  in  their  glory.  Imagine  them  all  ex- 
tinguished, and  your  mind  feeling  its  way  through  a 
heaven  of  total  darkness,  occasionally  striking  against 
the  black,  invisible  cinders  of  those  stars.  ...    If  you 

34 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

are  cheerful,  and  wish  to  remain  so,  leave  the  study  of 
astronomy  alone.  Of  all  the  sciences,  it  alone  deserves 
the  character  of  the  terrible.' 

*  I  am  not  altogether  cheerful.* 

*  Then  if,  on  the  other  hand,  you  are  restless  and 
anxious  about  the  future,  study  astronomy  at  once. 
Your  troubles  will  be  reduced  amazingly.  But  your 
study  will  reduce  them  in  a  singular  way,  by  reducing 
the  importance  of  everything.  So  that  the  science  is 
still  terrible,  even  as  a  panacea.  It  is  quite  impossible 
to  think  at  all  adequately  of  the  sky — of  what  the  sky 
substantially  is,  without  feeling  it  as  a  juxtaposed  night- 
mare. It  is  better — far  better — for  men  to  forget  the 
universe  than  to  bear  it  clearly  in  mind !  .  .  .  But 
you  say  the  universe  was  not  really  what  you  came  to 
see  me  about.  What  was  it,  may  I  ask,  Lady  Con- 
stantine  ? ' 

She  mused,  and  sighed,  and  turned  to  him  with 
something  pathetic  in  her. 

'  The  immensity  of  the  subject  you  have  engaged 
me  on  has  completely  crushed  my  subject  out  of  me ! 
Yours  is  celestial ;  mine  lamentably  human  !  And  the 
less  must  give  way  to  the  greater.* 

*  But  is  it,  in  a  human  sense,  and  apart  from  macro- 
cosmic  magnitudes,  important  ?  '  he  inquired,  at  last 
attracted  by  her  manner ;  for  he  began  to  perceive,  in 
spite  of  his  prepossession,  that  she  had  really  some- 
thing on  her  mind. 

*  It  is  as  important  as  personal  troubles  usually  are.' 
Notwithstanding  her  preconceived  notion  of  coming 

to  Swithin  as  employer  to  dependant,  as  chatelaine  to 
page,  she  was  falling  into  confidential  intercourse 
with  him.  His  vast  and  romantic  endeavours  lent 
him  a  personal  force  and  charm  which  she  could  not 
but  apprehend.  In  the  presence  of  the  immensities 
that  his  young  mind  had,  as  it  were,  brought  down 
from  above  to  hers,  they  became  unconsciously  equal. 
There  was,  moreover,  an  inborn  liking  in  Lady 
Constantine  to  dwell  less  on  her  permanent  position 

35 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

as  a  county  lady  than  on  her  passing  emotions  as 
a  woman. 

*  I  will  postpone  the  matter  I  came  to  charge  you 
with,'  she  resumed,  smiling.  '  I  must  reconsider  it. 
Now  I  will  return.' 

*  Allow  me  to  show  you  out  through  the  trees  and 
across  the  fields  ? ' 

She  said  neither  a  distinct  yes  nor  no  ;  and,  descend- 
ing the  tower,  they  threaded  the  firs  and  crossed  the 
ploughed  field.  By  an  odd  coincidence  he  remarked, 
when  they  drew  near  the  Great  House — 

*  You  may  possibly  be  interested  in  knowing,  Lady 
Constantine,  that  that  medium-sized  star  you  see  over 
there,  low  down  in  the  south,  is  precisely  over  Sir 
Blount  Constantine's  head  in  the  middle  of  Africa.' 

*  How  very  strange  that  you  should  have  said  so! ' 
she  answered.  *  You  have  broached  for  me  the  very 
subject  I  had  come  to  speak  of 

*  On  a  domestic  matter  ?  '  he  said,  with  surprise. 

*  Yes.  What  a  small  matter  it  seems  now,  after 
our  astronomical  stupendousness !  and  yet  on  my  way 
to  you  it  so  far  transcended  the  ordinary  matters  of  my 
life  as  the  subject  you  have  led  me  up  to  transcends 
this.  But,'  with  a  little  laugh,  *  I  will  endeavour  to 
sink  down  to  such  ephemeral  trivialities  as  human 
tragedy,  and  explain,  since  I  have  come.  The  point 
is,  1  want  a  helper :  no  woman  ever  wanted  one  more. 
For  days  I  have  wanted  a  trusty  friend  who  could 
go  on  a  secret  errand  for  me.  It  is  necessary  that  my 
messenger  should  be  educated,  should  be  intelligent, 
should  be  silent  as  the  grave.  Do  you  give  me  your 
solemn  promise  as  to  the  last  point,  if  I  confide  in  you  ?  ' 

*  Most  emphatically,  Lady  Constantine.' 

*  Your  right  hand  upon  the  compact.* 

He  gave  his  hand,  and  raised  hers  to  his  lips.  In 
addition  to  his  respect  for  her  as  the  lady  of  the 
manor,  there  was  the  admiration  of  twenty  years  for 
twenty-eight  or  nine  in  such  relations. 

'  I  trust  you,'  she  said.     *  Now,  beyond  the  above 

36 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

conditions,  it  was  specially  necessary  that  my  agent 
should  have  known  Sir  Blount  Constantine  well  by 
sight  when  he  was  at  home.  For  the  errand  is  con- 
cerning my  husband  ;  I  am  much  disturbed  at  what  I 
have  heard  about  him.' 

*  I  am  indeed  sorry  to  know  it.' 

*  There  are  only  two  people  in  the  parish  who 
fulfil  all  the  conditions, — Mr.  Torkingham,  and  your- 
self. I  sent  for  Mr.  Torkingham,  and  he  came.  I 
could  not  tell  him.  I  felt  at  the  last  moment  that  he 
wouldn't  do.  I  have  come  to  you  because  I  think 
you  will  do.  This  is  it  :  my  husband  has  led  me 
and  all  the  world  to  believe  that  he  is  in  Africa, 
hunting  lions.  I  have  had  a  mysterious  letter  in- 
forming me  that  he  has  been  seen  in  London,  in  very 
peculiar  circumstances.  The  truth  of  this  I  want 
ascertained.      Will  you  go  on  the  journey  ?  ' 

'  Personally,   I  would  go  to  the  end  of  the  world 
for  you,  Lady  Constantine  ;  but — ' 
'  No  buts  ! ' 

*  How  can  I  leave  ?  ' 
*Why  not.?' 

*  I  am  preparing  a  work  on  variable  stars.  There 
is  one  of  these  which  I  have  exceptionally  observed 
for  several  months,  and  on  this  my  great  theory  is 
mainly  based.  It  has  been  hitherto  called  irregular ; 
but  I  have  detected  a  periodicity  in  its  so-called 
irregularities  which,  if  proved,  would  add  some  very 
valuable  facts  to  those  known  on  this  subject,  one  of 
the  most  interesting,  perplexing,  and  suggestive  in 
the  whole  field  of  astronomy.  Now,  to  clinch  my 
theory,  there  should  be  a  sudden  variation  this  week, 
— or  at  latest  next  week^^ — and  I  have  to  watch  every 
night  not  to  let  it  pass.  You  see  my  reason  for 
declining.  Lady  Constantine.' 

*  Young  men  are  always  so  selfish  ! '  she  said. 

*  It  might  ruin  the  whole  of  my  year's  labour  if  I 
leave  now  ! '  returned  the  youth,  greatly  hurt.  *  Could 
you  not  wait  a  fortnight  longer  ?  * 

37 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  No, — no.  Don't  think  that  I  have  asked  you, 
pray.      I  have  no  wish  to  inconvenience  you.' 

*  Lady  Constantine,  don't  be  angry  with  me  !  Will 
you  do  this, — watch  the  star  for  me  while  I  am  gone? 
If  you  are  prepared  to  do  it  effectually,  I  will  go.' 

*  Will  it  be  much  trouble  ?  ' 

'  It  will  be  some  trouble.  You  would  have  to 
come  here  every  clear  evening  about  nine.  If  the 
sky  were  not  clear,  then  you  would  have  to  come 
at  four  in  the  morning,  should  the  clouds  have 
dispersed.' 

*  Could  not  the  telescope  be  brought  to  my  house  ? ' 
Swithin  shook  his  head. 

'  Perhaps  you  did  not  observe  its  real  size, — that 
it  was  fixed  to  a  frame-work  ?  I  could  not  afford  to 
buy  an  equatorial,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  rig  up 
an  apparatus  of  my  own  devising,  so  as  to  make  it  in 
some  measure  answer  the  purpose  of  an  equatorial. 
It  cotild  be  moved,  but  I  would  rather  not  touch  it.' 

'  Well,  I'll  go  to  the  telescope,'  she  went  on,  with 
an  emphasis  that  was  not  wholly  playful.  'You  are 
the  most  ungallant  youth  I  ever  met  with ;  but  I 
suppose  I  must  set  that  down  to  science.  Yes,  I'll 
go  to  the  tower  at  nine  every  night.* 

'  And  alone  ?  I  should  prefer  to  keep  my  pursuits 
there  unknown.' 

*  And  alone,'  she  answered,  quite  overborne  by  his 
inflexibility. 

*  You  will  not  miss  the  morning  observation,  if  it 
should  be  necessary  ? ' 

*  I  have  given  my  word.' 

*And  I  give  mine.  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to 
have  been  so  exacting  ! '  He  spoke  with  that  sudden 
emotional  sense  of  his  own  insignificance  which  made 
these  alternations  of  mood  possible.  '  I  will  go  any- 
where— do  anything  for  you — this  moment — to-morrow 
or  at  any  time.  But  you  must  return  with  me  to  the 
tower,  and  let  me  show  you  the  observing  process.' 

They   retraced   their  steps,    the   tender   hoar-frost 

38 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

taking  the  imprint  of  their  feet,  while  two  stars  in  the 
1  wins  looked  down  upon  their  two  persons  through 
the  trees,  as  if  those  two  persons  could  bear  some 
sort  of  comparison  with  them.  On  the  tower  the 
instructions  were  given.  When  all  was  over,  and 
he  was  again  conducting  her  to  the  Great  House 
she  said — 

'  When  can  you  start .-' ' 
'Now,'  said  Swithin. 

night^mail"^  '^'  ""'"''•     ^°"  ''^""  ^°  "P  ^^  '^^ 


On  the  third  morning  after  the  young  man's  departure 
Lady  Constantine  opened  the  post-bag  anxiously. 
Though  she  had  risen  before  four  o'clock,  and  crossed 
to  the  tower  through  the  gray  half-light  when  every 
blade  and  twig  were  furred  with  rime,  she  felt  no 
languor.  Expectation  could  banish  at  cock-crow  the 
eye-heaviness  which  apathy  had  been  unable  to  dis- 
perse all  the  day  long. 

There  was,  as  she  had  hoped,  a  letter  from  Swithin 
St.  Cleeve. 

Dear  Lady  Constantine, — I  have  quite  succeeded  in 
my  mission,  and  shall  return  to-morrow  at  lo  P.M.  I  hope 
you  have  not  failed  in  the  observations.  Watching  the  star 
through  an  opera-glass  Sunday  night  I  fancied  some  change 
had  taken  place,  but  I  could  not  make  myself  sure.  Your 
memoranda  for  that  night  I  await  with  impatience.  Please 
don't  neglect  to  write  down,  at  the  moment^  all  remarkable 
appearances  both  as  to  colour  and  intensity  ;  and  be  very 
exact  as  to  time,  which  correct  in  the  way  I  showed  you. — I 
am,  dear  Lady  Constantine,  yours  most  faithfully, 

SwiTHiN  St.  Cleeve. 

Not  another  word  in  the  letter  about  his  errand  ; 
his  mind  ran  on  nothing  but  this  astronomical  subject. 
He  had  succeeded  in  his  mission,  and  yet  he  did  not 
even  say  yes  or  no  to  the  great  question, — whether  or 
not  her  husband  was  masquerading  in  London  at  the 
address  she  had  given. 

*  Was  ever  anything  so  provoking  ! '  she  cried. 

However,   the   time  was  not  long  to  wait.      His 

40 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

way  homeward  would  lie  within  a  stone's-throw  of  the 
manor-house,  and  though  for  certain  reasons  she  had 
forbidden  him  to  call  at  the  late  hour  of  his  arrival, 
she  could  easily  intercept  him  in  the  avenue.  At 
twenty  minutes  past  ten  she  went  out  into  the  drive, 
and  stood  in  the  dark.  Seven  minutes  later  she  heard 
his  footstep,  and  saw  his  outline  in  the  slit  of  light 
between  the  avenue-trees.  He  had  a  valise  in  one 
hand,  a  great-coat  on  his  arm,  and  under  his  arm  a 
parcel  which  seemed  to  be  very  precious,  from  the 
manner  in  which  he  held  it. 

'  Lady  Constantine  ? '  he  asked  softly. 

'Yes,'  she  said,  in  her  excitement  holding  out  both 
her  hands,  though  he  had  plainly  not  expected  her  to 
offer  one. 

*  Did  you  watch  the  star? ' 

'I'll  tell  you  everything  in  detail;  but,  pray,  your 
errand  first ! ' 

'  Yes,  it's  all  right.  Did  you  watch  every  night, — 
not  missing  one  ?  ' 

*  I  forgot  to  go — twice,*  she  murmured  contritely. 

*  O,  Lady  Constantine ! '  he  cried  in  dismay. 
*  How  could  you  serve  me  so !  what  shall  I  do  .f^ ' 

'Please  forgive  me!  Indeed,  I  could  not  help  it. 
I  had  watched  and  watched,  and  nothing  happened  ; 
and  somehow  my  vigilance  relaxed  when  I  found 
nothing  was  likely  to  take  place  in  the  star.' 

*  But  the  very  circumstance  of  it  not  having  hap- 
pened made  it  all  the  more  likely  every  day.' 

'  Have  you — seen — '  she  began  imploringly. 

Swithin  sighed,  lowered  his  thoughts  to  sublunary 
things,  and  told  briefly  the  story  of  his  journey.  Sir 
Blount  Constantine  was  not  in  London  at  the  address 
which  had  been  anonymously  sent  her.  It  was  a 
mistake  of  identity.  The  person  who  had  been  seen 
there  Swithin  had  sought  out.  He  resembled  Sir 
Blount  strongly  ;  but  he  was  a  stranger. 

'  How  can  I  reward  you ! '  she  exclaimed,  when  he 
had  done. 

41 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  In  no  way  but  by  giving  me  your  good  wishes  in 
what  I  am  going  to  tell  you  on  my  own  account.'  He 
spoke  in  tones  of  mysterious  exultation.  *  This  parcel 
is  going  to  make  my  fame  1 ' 

*  What  is  it  ?  ' 

*  A  huge  object-glass  for  the  great  telescope  I  am 
so  busy  about !  Such  a  magnificent  aid  to  science 
has  never  entered  this  county  before,  you  may 
depend.' 

He  produced  from  under  his  arm  the  carefully 
cuddled-up  package,  which  was  in  shape  a  round  flat 
disk,  like  a  dinner-plate,  tied  in  paper. 

Proceeding  to  explain  his  plans  to  her  more  fully 
he  walked  with  her  towards  the  door  by  which  she 
had  emerged.  It  was  a  little  side  wicket  through  a 
wall  dividing  the  open  park  from  the  garden  terraces. 
Here  for  a  moment  he  placed  his  valise  and  parcel 
on  the  coping  of  the  stone  balustrade,  till  he  had 
bidden  her  farewell.  Then  he  turned,  and  in  laying 
hold  of  his  bag  by  the  dim  light  pushed  the  parcel 
over  the  parapet.  It  fell  smash  upon  the  paved  walk 
ten  or  a  dozen  feet  beneath. 

*  O,  good  heavens ! '  he  cried  in  anguish, 
*What?' 

*  My  object-glass  broken !  * 

*  Is  it  of  much  value  ? ' 

*  It  cost  all  I  possess !  * 

He  ran  round  by  the  steps  to  the  lower  lawn, 
Lady  Constantine  following,  as  he  continued,  *  It  is  a 
magnificent  eight-inch  first  quality  object  lens!  I 
took  advantage  of  my  journey  to  London  to  get  it! 
I  have  been  six  weeks  making  the  tube  of  milled 
board ;  and  as  I  had  not  enough  money  by  twelve^ 
pounds  for  the  lens,  I  borrowed  it  of  my  grandmother 
out  of  her  last  annuity  payment.  What  can  be,  cani 
be  done ! ' 

*  Perhaps  it  is  not  broken.' 
He  felt  on  the  ground,  found  the  parcel,  and  shook 

it.      A   clicking  noise    issued    from    inside.      Swithin 

42 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

smote  his  forehead  with  his  hand,  and  walked  up  and 
down  like  a  mad  fellow. 

*  My  telescope !  I  have  waited  nine  months 
for  this  lens.  Now  the  possibility  of  setting  up  a 
really  powerful  instrument  is  over!  It  is  too  cruel — 
how  could  it  happen !  .  .  .  Lady  Constantine,  I  am 
ashamed  of  myself, — before  you.  O  but,  Lady 
Constantine,  if  you  only  knew  what  it  is  to  a  person 
engaged  in  science  to  have  the  means  of  clinching  a 
theory  snatched  away  at  the  last  moment!  It  is  I 
against  the  world  ;  and  when  the  world  has  accidents 
on  its  side  in  addition  to  its  natural  strength,  what 
chance  for  me  !  * 

The  young  astronomer  leant  against  the  wall,  and 
was  silent.  His  misery  was  of  an  intensity  and  kind 
with  that  of  Palissy,  in  these  struggles  with  an  adverse 
fate. 

*  Don't  mind  it, — pray  don't ! '  said  Lady  Constan- 
tine. *  It  is  dreadfully  unfortunate!  You  have  my 
whole  sympathy.     Can  it  be  mended  ?  ' 

*  Mended, — no,  no  ! ' 

*  Cannot  you  do  with  your  present  one  a  little 
longer  ?  ' 

'  It  is  altogether  inferior,  cheap,  and  bad ! ' 
'I'll  get  you  another, — yes,  indeed,  I  will!  Allow 
me  to  get  you  another  as  soon  as  possible.  I'll  do 
anything  to  assist  you  out  of  your  trouble  ;  for  I  am 
most  anxious  to  see  you  famous.  I  know  you  will  be 
a  great  astronomer,  in  spite  of  this  mishap  !  Come, 
say  I  may  get  a  new  one.' 

Swithin  took  her  hand.  He  could  not  trust  himself 
to  speak. 

Some  days  later  a  little  box  of  peculiar  kind  came 
to  the  Great  House.  It  was  addressed  to  Lady  Con- 
stantine, 'with  great  care.'  She  had  it  partly  opened 
ind  taken  to  her  own  writing-room  ;  and  after  lunch, 
ivhen  she  had  dressed  for  walking,  she  took  from  the 
>ox  a  paper  parcel  like  the  one  which  had  met  with 

43 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the  accident.  This  she  hid  under  her  mantle  as  if  she 
had  stolen  it ;  and  going  out  slowly  across  the  lawn 
passed  through  the  little  door  before  spoken  of,  and 
was  soon  hastening  in  the  direction  of  the  Rings-Hill 
column. 

There  was  a  bright  sun  overhead  on  that  afternoon 
of  early  spring,  and  its  rays  shed  an  unusual  warmth 
on  south-west  aspects,  though  shady  places  still  re- 
tained the  look  and  feel  of  winter.  Rooks  were 
already  beginning  to  build  new  nests  or  to  mend  up 
old  ones,  and  clamorously  called  in  neighbours  to  give 
opinions  on  difficulties  in  their  architecture.  Lady 
Constantine  swerved  once  from  her  path,  as  if  she 
had  decided  to  go  to  the  homestead  where  Swithin 
lived  ;  but  on  second  thoughts  she  bent  her  steps  to 
the  column. 

Drawing  near  it  she  looked  up  ;  but  by  reason  of 
the  height  of  the  parapet  nobody  could  be  seen  there- 
on who  did  not  stand  on  tiptoe.  She  thought,  how- 
ever, that  her  young  friend  might  possibly  see  her  if 
he  were  there,  and  come  down  ;  and  that  he  was  there 
she  soon  ascertained  by  finding  the  door  unlocked,  and 
the  key  inside.  No  movement,  however,  reached  her 
ears  from  above,  and  she  began  to  ascend. 

Meanwhile  affairs  at  the  top  of  the  column  had 
progressed  as  follows.  The  afternoon  being  exception- 
ally fine  Swithin  had  ascended  about  two  o'clock,  and, 
seating  himself  at  the  little  table  which  he  had  con- 
structed on  the  spot,  he  began  reading  over  his  notes 
and  examining  some  astronomical  journals  that  had 
reached  him  in  the  morning.  The  sun  blazed  into 
the  hollow  roof-space  as  into  a  tub,  and  the  sides  kept 
out  every  breeze.  Though  the  month  was  February 
below  it  was  May  in  the  abacus  of  the  column.  This 
state  of  the  atmosphere,  and  the  fact  that  on  the 
previous  night  he  had  pursued  his  observations  till 
past  two  o'clock,  produced  in  him  at  the  end  of  half  an 
hour  an  overpowering  inclination  to  sleep.  Spreading 
on  the  lead-work  a  thick  rug  which  he  kept  up  there, 

44 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

he  flung  himself  down  against  the  parapet,  and  was 
soon  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness. 

It  was  about  ten  minutes  afterwards  that  a  soft 
rustle  of  silken  clothes  came  up  the  spiral  staircase,  and, 
hesitating  onwards,  reached  the  orifice,  where  appeared 
the  form  of  Lady  Constantine.  She  did  not  at  first 
perceive  that  he  was  present,  and  stood  still  to  re- 
connoitre. Her  eye  glanced  over  his  telescope,  now 
wrapped  up,  his  table  and  papers,  his  observing-chair, 
and  his  contrivances  for  making  the  best  of  a  deficiency 
of  instruments.  All  was  warm,  sunny,  and  silent, 
except  that  a  solitary  bee,  which  had  somehow  got 
within  the  hollow  of  the  abacus,  was  singing  round 
inquiringly,  unable  to  discern  that  ascent  was  the  only 
mode  of  escape.  In  another  moment  she  beheld  the 
astronomer,  lying  in  the  sun  like  a  sailor  in  the  main- 
top. 

Lady  Constantine  coughed  slightly ;  he  did  not 
awake.  She  then  entered,  and,  drawing  the  parcel 
from  beneath  her  cloak,  placed  it  on  the  table.  After 
this  she  waited,  looking  for  a  long  time  at  his  sleeping 
face,  which  had  a  very  interesting  appearance.  She 
seemed  reluctant  to  leave,  yet  wanted  resolution  to 
wake  him  ;  and,  pencilling  his  name  on  the  parcel,  she 
withdrew  to  the  staircase,  where  the  brushing  of  her 
dress  decreased  to  silence  as  she  receded  round  and 
round  on  her  way  to  the  base. 

Swithin  still  slept  on,  and  presently  the  rustle  began 
again  in  the  far-down  interior  of  the  column.  The 
door  could  be  heard  closing,  and  the  rustle  came 
nearer,  showing  that  she  had  shut  herself  in, — no 
doubt  to  lessen  the  risk  of  an  accidental  surprise  by 
any  roaming  villager.  When  Lady  Constantine  re- 
appeared at  the  top,  and  saw  the  parcel  still  untouched 
and  Swithin  asleep  as  before,  she  exhibited  some  dis- 
appointment ;  but  she  did  not  retreat. 

Looking  again  at  him  her  eyes  became  so  senti- 
mentally fixed  on  his  face  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  could 
not  withdraw  them.     There  lay,  in  the  shape  of  an 

45 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Antinous,  no  amorosOy  no  gallant,  but  a  guileless  philo- 
sopher. His  parted  lips  were  lips  which  spoke,  not  of 
love,  but  of  millions  of  miles  ;  those  were  eyes  which 
habitually  gazed,  not  into  the  depths  of  other  eyes,  but 
into  other  worlds.  Within  his  temples  dwelt  thoughts, 
not  of  woman's  looks,  but  of  stellar  aspects  and  the 
configuration  of  constellations. 

Thus,  to  his  physical  attractiveness  was  added  the 
attractiveness  of  mental  inaccessibility.  The  ennobling 
influence  of  scientific  pursuits  was  demonstrated  by  the 
speculative  purity  which  expressed  itself  in  his  eyes 
whenever  he  looked  at  her  in  speaking,  and  in  the 
childlike  faults  of  manner  which  arose  from  his  obtuse- 
ness  to  their  difference  of  sex.  He  had  never,  since 
becoming  a  man,  looked  even  so  low  as  to  the  level  of 
a  Lady  Constantine.  His  heaven  at  present  was  truly 
in  the  skies,  and  not  in  that  only  other  place  where 
they  say  it  can  be  found,  in  the  eyes  of  some  daughter 
of  Eve.  Would  any  Circe  or  Calypso — and  if  so, 
what  one  ? —  ever  check  this  pale-haired  scientist's 
nocturnal  sailings  into  the  interminable  spaces  over- 
head, and  hurl  all  his  mighty  calculations  on  cosmic 
force  and  stellar  fire  into  Limbo  ?  O  the  pity  of  it,  if 
such  should  be  the  case ! 

She  became  much  absorbed  in  these  very  womanly 
reflections ;  and  at  last  Lady  Constantine  sighed, 
perhaps  she  herself  did  not  exactly  know  why.  Then 
a  very  soft  expression  lighted  on  her  lips  and  eyes, 
and  she  looked  at  one  jump  ten  years  more  youthful 
than  before — quite  a  girl  in  aspect,  younger  than  he. 
On  the  table  lay  his  implements  ;  among  them  a  pair ; 
of  scissors  which,  to  judge  from  the  shreds  around,  had 
been  used  in  cutting  curves  in  thick  paper  for  some  - 
calculating  process. 

What  whim,  agitation,  or  attraction  prompted  the 
impulse,  nobody  knows  ;  but  she  took  the  scissors  and, ' 
bending  over  the  sleeping  youth,  cut  off  one  of  the  curls, 
or  rather  crooks, — for  they  hardly  reached  a  curl, — ■< 
into  which  each  lock  of  his  hair  chose  to  twist  itself  inji 

46 


i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the  last  inch  of  its  length.     The  hair  fell  upon  the  rug]y 
She  picked  it  up  quickly,  returned  the  scissors  to  the 
table,   and,   as    if  her    dignity   had    suddenly   become 
ashamed  of  her  fantasies,  hastened  through  the  door  and 
descended  the  staircase. 


VI 

When  his  nap  had  naturally  exhausted  itself  Swlthin 
awoke.  He  awoke  without  any  surprise,  for  he  not 
unfrequently  gave  to  sleep  in  the  day-time  what  he 
had  stolen  from  it  in  the  night  watches.  The  first 
object  that  met  his  eyes  was  the  parcel  on  the  table, 
and,  seeing  his  name  inscribed  thereon,  he  made  no 
scruple  to  open  it. 

The  sun  flashed  upon  a  lens  of  surprising  magni- 
tude, polished  to  such  a  smoothness  that  the  eye  could 
scarcely  meet  its  reflections.  Her^.  was  a  crystal  in 
whose  depths  were  to  be  seen  mor>^  wonders  than  had 
been  revealed  by  the  crystals  of  all  the  Cagliostros. 

Swithin,  hot  with  joyousness,  took  this  treasure  to 
his  telescope  manufactory  at  the  homestead  ;  then  he 
started  off  for  the  Great  House. 

On  gaining  its  precincts  he  felt  shy  of  calling,  never 
having  received  any  hint  or  permission  to  do  so ; 
while  Lady  Constantine's  mysterious  manner  of  leaving 
the  parcel  seemed  to  demand  a  like  mysteriousness  in 
his  approaches  to  her.  All  the  afternoon  he  lingered 
about  uncertainly,  in  the  hope  of  intercepting  her  on 
her  return  from  a  drive,  occasionally  walking  with  an 
indifferent  lounge  across  glades  commanded  by  the 
windows,  that  if  she  were  indoors  she  might  know  he 
was  near.  But  she  did  not  show  herself  during  the 
daylight.  Still  impressed  by  her  playful  secrecy  he 
carried  on  the  same  idea  after  dark,  by  returning  to  the 
house  and  passing  through  the  garden  door  on  to  the 
lawn  front,  where  he  sat  on  the  parapet  that  breasted 
the  terrace. 

48 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Now  she  frequently  came  out  here  for  a  melancholy 
saunter  after  dinner,  and  to-night  was  such  an  occasion. 
Swithin  went  forward,  and  met  her  at  nearly  the  spot 
where  he  had  dropped  the  lens  some  niorhts  earlier. 

*  I  have  come  to  see  you,  Lady  Constantine.  How 
did  the  glass  get  on  my  table  ?  ' 

She  laughed  as  lightly  as  a  girl ;  that  he  had  come 
to  her  in  this  way  was  plainly  no  offence  thus  far. 

*  Perhaps  it  was  dropped  from  the  clouds  by  a  bird,* 
she  said. 

*  Why  should  you  be  so  good  to  me  ?  '  he  cried. 

*  One  good  turn  deserves  another,*  answered  she. 

*  Dear  Lady  Constantine!  Whatever  discoveries 
result  from  this  shall  be  ascribed  to  you  as  much 
as  to  me.     Where  should  I  have  been  without  your 

gift?' 

*  You  would  possibly  have  accomplished  your 
purpose  just  the  same,  and  have  been  so  much  the 
nobler  for  your  struggle  against  ill-luck.  I  hope  that 
now  you  will  be  able  to  proceed  with  your  large 
telescope  as  if  nothing  had  happened.' 

*  O  yes,  I  will,  certainly.  I  am  afraid  I  showed  too 
much  feeling,  the  reverse  of  stoical,  when  the  accident 
occurred.     That  was  not  very  noble  of  me,' 

*  There  is  nothing  unnatural  in  such  feeling  at  your 
age.  When  you  are  older  you  will  smile  at  such 
moods,  and  at  the  mishaps  that  give  rise  to  them.' 

*  Ah,  I  perceive  you  think  me  weak  in  the  extreme,' 
he  said,  with  just  a  shade  of  pique.  *  But  you  will 
never  realize  that  an  incident  which  filled  but  a  degree 
in  the  circle  of  your  thoughts  covered  the  whole 
circumference  of  mine.  No  person  can  see  exactly 
what  and  where  another's  horizon  is.' 

They  soon  parted,  and  she  re-entered  the  house, 
where  she  sat  reflecting  for  some  time,  till  she  seemed 
to  fear  that  she  had  wounded  his  feelings.  She  awoke 
in  the  night,  and  thought  and  thought  on  the  same 
thing,  till  she  had  worked  herself  into  a  feverish  fret 
about  it.     When  it  was  morning  she  looked  across  at 

49 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the   tower,  and   sitting   down,  impulsively  wrote  the 
following  note  : — 

Dear  Mr.  St.  Cleeve, — I  cannot  allow  you  to  remain 
under  the  impression  that  I  despised  your  scientific  endeavours 
in  speaking  as  I  did  last  night.  I  think  you  were  too  sensitive 
to  my  remark.  But  perhaps  you  were  agitated  with  the 
labours  of  the  day,  and  I  fear  that  watching  so  late  at  night 
must  make  you  very  weary.  If  I  can  help  you  again,  please 
let  me  know.  I  never  realized  the  grandeur  of  astronomy 
till  you  showed  me  how  to  do  so.  Also  let  me  know  about 
the  new  telescope.  Come  and  see  me  !  After  your  great 
kindness  in  being  my  messenger  I  can  never  do  enough  for 
you.  I  wish  you  had  a  mother  or  sister,  and  pity  your  lone- 
liness !     I  am  lonely  too. — Yours  truly, 

ViVIETTE  CONSTANTINE. 

She  was  so  anxious  that  he  should  get  this  letter 
the  same  day  that  she  ran  across  to  the  column  with 
it  during  the  morning,  preferring  to  be  her  own 
emissary  in  so  curious  a  case.  The  door,  as  she 
had  expected,  was  locked ;  and,  slipping  the  letter 
under  it,  she  went  home  again.  During  lunch  her 
ardour  in  the  cause  of  Swithin's  hurt  feelings  cooled 
down,  till  she  exclaimed  to  herself,  as  she  sat  at  her 
lonely  table,  *  What  could  have  possessed  me  to  write 
in  that  way  ! ' 

After  lunch  she  went  faster  to  the  tower  than  she 
had  gone  in  the  early  morning,  and  peeped  eagerly 
into  the  chink  under  the  door.  She  could  discern  no 
letter,  and,  on  trying  the  latch,  found  that  the  door 
would  open.  The  letter  was  gone,  Swithin  having 
obviously  arrived  in  the  interval. 

She  blushed  a  blush  which  seemed  to  say,  *  I  am 
getting  foolishly  interested  in  this  young  man.'  She 
had,  in  short,  in  her  own  opinion,  somewhat  over- 
stepped the  bounds  of  dignity.  Her  instincts  did  not 
square  well  with  the  formalities  of  her  existence,  and 
she  walked  home  despondently. 

Had  a  concert,  bazaar,  lecture,  or  Dorcas  meeting 
required  the  patronage  and  support  of  Lady  Constan- 

50 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

tine  at  this  juncture,  the  circumstance  would  probably 
have  been  sufficient  to  divert  her  mind  from  Swithin 
St.  Cleeve  and  astronomy  for  some  little  time.  But 
as  none  of  these  incidents  were  within  the  range  of 
expectation — Welland  House  and  parish  lying  far 
from  large  towns  and  watering-places — the  void  in 
her  outer  life  continued,  and  with  it  the  void  in  her 
life  within. 

The  youth  had  not  answered  her  letter ;  neither 
had  he  called  upon  her  in  response  to  the  invitation  she 
had  regretted,  with  the  rest  of  the  epistle,  as  being 
somewhat  too  warmly  informal  for  black  and  white. 
To  speak  tenderly  to  him  was  one  thing,  to  write 
another — that  was  her  feeling  immediately  after  the 
event ;  but  his  counter-move  of  silence  and  avoidance, 
though  probably  the  result  of  pure  unconsciousness  on 
his  part,  completely  dispersed  such  self-considerations 
now.  Her  eyes  never  fell  upon  the  Rings- Hill  column 
without  a  solicitous  wonder  arising  as  to  what  he  was 
doing.  A  true  woman,  she  would  assume  the  remotest 
possibility  to  be  the  most  likely  contingency,  if  the 
possibility  had  the  recommendation  of  being  tragical ; 
and  she  now  feared  that  something  was  wrong  with 
Swithin  St.  Cleeve.  Yet  there  was  not  the  least  doubt 
that  he  had  become  so  immersed  in  the  business  of  the 
new  telescope  as  to  forget  everything  else. 

On  Sunday,  between  the  services,  she  walked  to 
Little  Welland,  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  giving  a  run  to 
a  house-dog,  a  large  St.  Bernard,  of  whom  she  was 
fond.  The  distance  was  but  short,  and  she  returned 
along  a  narrow  lane,  divided  from  the  river  by  a  hedge, 
through  whose  leafless  twigs  the  ripples  flashed  silver 
lights  into  her  eyes.  Here  she  discovered  Swithin, 
leaning  over  a  gate,  his  eyes  bent  upon  the  stream. 

The  dog  first  attracted  his  attention  ;  then  he  heard 
her,  and  turned  round.  She  had  never  seen  him 
looking  so  despondent. 

'You  have  never  called,  though  I  invited  you,'  said 
Lady  Constantine. 

51 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

'  My  great  telescope  won't  work ! '  he  replied 
lugubriously. 

'  I  am  sorry  for  that.  So  it  has  made  you  quite 
forget  me  ? ' 

'  Ah,  yes  ;  you  wrote  me  a  very  kind  letter,  which 
I  ought  to  have  answered.  Well,  I  did  forget,  Lady 
Constantine.  My  new  telescope  won't  work,  and  I 
don't  know  what  to  do  about  it  at  all ! ' 

*  Can  I  assist  you  any  further  ? ' 

*  No,  I  fear  not.  Besides,  you  have  assisted  me 
already.' 

*  What  would  really  help  you  out  of  all  your 
difficulties  ?     Something  would,  surely  ?  ' 

He  shook  his  head. 

*  There  must  be  some  solution  to  them  ?  * 

*  O  yes,*  he  replied,  with  a  hypothetical  gaze  into 
the  stream  ;  *  some  solution  of  course — an  equatorial, 
for  instance.' 

'  What's  that  ?  ' 

*  Briefly,  an  impossibility.  It  is  a  splendid  instru- 
ment, with  an  object  lens  of,  say,  eight  or  nine  inches 
aperture,  mounted  with  its  axis  parallel  to  the  earth's 
axis,  and  fitted  up  with  graduated  circles  for  denoting 
right  ascensions  and  declinations ;  besides  having 
special  eye-pieces,  a  finder,  and  all  sorts  of  appliances, 
clock-work  to  make  the  telescope  follow  the  motion 
in  right  ascension — I  cannot  tell  you  half  the  con- 
veniences.    Ah,  an  equatorial  is  a  thing  indeed ! ' 

*An  equatorial  is  the  one  instrument  required  to 
make  you  quite  happy  .'* ' 

*  Well,  yes.' 

*  I'll  see  what  I  can  do.' 

*  But,  Lady  Constantine,*  cried  the  amazed  astro- 
nomer, *  an  equatorial  such  as  I  describe  costs  as  much 
as  two  grand  pianos  !  * 

She  was  rather  staggered  at  this  news ;  but  she 
rallied  gallantly,  and  said,  *  Never  mind.  I'll  make 
inquiries.' 

*  But   it  could  not  be   put    on    the    tower   without 

52 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

people  seeing  it!"  It  would  have  to  be  fixed  to  the 
masonry.  And  there  must  be  a  dome  of  some  kind  to 
keep  off  the  rain.     A  tarpaulin  might  do.' 

Lady  Constantine  reflected.  '  It  would  be  a  great 
business,  I  see,'  she  said.  *  Though  as  far  as  the 
fixing  and  roofing  go,  I  would  of  course  consent  to 
your  doing  what  you  like  with  the  old  column.  My 
workmen  could  fix  it,  could  they  not  ? ' 

*  O  yes.  But  what  would  Sir  Blount  say,  if  he 
came  home  and  saw  the  goings  on  ? ' 

Lady  Constantine  turned  aside  to  hide  a  sudden 
displacement  of  blood  from  her  cheek.  VAh — my 
husband ! '  she  whispered.  ...  *  I  am  just  now  going 
to  church,'  she  added  in  a  repressed  and  hurried  tone. 
'  I  will  think  of  this  matter.' 

In  church  it  was  with  Lady  Constantine  as  with 
the  Lord  Angelo  of  Vienna  in  a  similar  situation — 
Heaven  had  her  empty  words  only,  and  her  invention 
heard  not  her  tongue.  She  soon  recovered  from  the 
momentary  consternation  into  which  she  had  fallen  at 
Swithin's  abrupt  query.  The  possibility  of  that  young 
astronomer  becoming  a  renowned  scientist  by  her  aid 
was  a  thought  which  gave  her  secret  pleasure.  The 
course  of  rendering  him  instant  material  help  began  to 
have  a  great  fascination  for  her  ;  it  was  a  new  and 
unexpected  channel  for  her  cribbed  and  confined 
emotions.  With  experiences  so  much  wider  than  his, 
Lady  Constantine  saw  that  the  chances  were  perhaps 
a  million  to  one  against  Swithin  St.  Cleeve  ever  being 
Astronomer  Royal,  or  Astronomer  Extraordinary  of 
any  sort ;  yet  the  remaining  chance  in  his  favour  was 
one  of  those  possibilities  which,  to  a  woman  of  bound- 
ing intellect  and  venturesome  fancy,  are  pleasanter  to 
dwell  on  than  likely  issues  that  have  no  savour  of 
high  speculation  in  them.  The  equatorial  question 
was  a  great  one  ;  and  she  had  caught  such  a  large 
spark  from  his  enthusiasm  that  she  could  think  of 
nothing  so  piquant  as  how  to  obtain  the  important 
instrument. 

53 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

When  Tabltha  Lark  arrived  at  the  Great  House 
next  day,  instead  of  finding  Lady  Constantine  in  bed, 
as  formerly,  she  discovered  her  in  the  Hbrary,  poring 
over  what  astronomical  works  she  had  been  able  to 
unearth  from  the  worm-eaten  shelves.  As  these 
publications  were,  for  a  science  of  such  rapid  develop- 
ment, somewhat  venerable,  there  was  not  much  help  of 
a  practical  kind  to  be  gained  from  them.  Never- 
theless, the  equatorial  retained  a  hold  upon  her  fancy, 
till  she  became  as  eager  to  see  one  on  the  Rings- Hill 
column  as  Swithin  himself. 

The  upshot  of  it  was  that  Lady  Constantine  sent  a 
messenger  that  evening  to  Welland  Bottom,  where 
the  homestead  of  Swithin's  grandmother  was  situated, 
requesting  the  young  man's  presence  at  the  house  at 
twelve  o'clock  next  day. 

He  hurriedly  returned  an  obedient  reply,  and  the 
promise  was  enough  to  lend  great  freshness  to  her 
manner  next  morning,  instead  of  the  leaden  air  which 
was  too  frequent  with  her  before  the  sun  reached  the 
meridian,  and  sometimes  after.  Swithin  had,  in  fact, 
arisen  as  an  attractive  little  intervention  between  her- 
self and  despair. 


VII 

A  FOG  defaced  all  the  trees  of  the  park  that  morning ; 
the  white  atmosphere  adhered  to  the  ground  Hke  a 
fungoid  growth  from  it,  and  made  the  turfed  undula- 
tions look  slimy  and  raw.  But  Lady  Constantine 
settled  down  in  her  chair  to  await  the  coming  of  the 
late  curate's  son  with  a  serenity  which  the  vast  blanks 
outside  could  neither  baffle  nor  destroy. 

At  two  minutes  to  twelve  the  door-bell  rane,  and  a 
look  overspread  the  lady's  face  that  was  neither 
maternal,  sisterly,  nor  amorous ;  but  partook  in  an 
indescribable  manner  of  all  three  kinds.  The  door 
was  flung  open  and  the  young  man  was  ushered  in, 
the  fog  still  clinging  to  his  hair,  in  which  she  could 
discern  a  little  notch  where  she  had  nipped  off  the 
curl. 

A  speechlessness  that  socially  was  a  defect  in  him 
was  to  her  view  a  piquant  attribute  just  now.  He 
looked  somewhat  alarmed. 

'  Lady  Constantine,  have  I  done  anything,  that 
you  have  sent — } '  he  began  breathlessly,  as  he  gazed 
in  her  face,  with  parted  lips. 

*  O  no,  of  course  not !  I  have  decided  to  do 
something, — nothing  more,'  she  smilingly  said,  hold- 
ing out  her  hand,  which  he  rather  gingerly  touched. 
*  Don't  looked  so  concerned.  Who  makes  equa- 
torials  ? ' 

This  remark  was  like  the  drawing  of  a  weir-hatch, 
and  she  was  speedily  inundated  with  all  she  wished  to 
know   concerning   astronomical   opticians.     When   he 

55 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

had    imparted    the    particulars    he    waited,  manifestly 
burning  to  know  whither  these  inquiries  tended. 

*  I  am  not  going  to  buy  you  one,'  she  said  gently. 
He  looked  as  if  he  would  faint. 

'  Certainly  not.  I  do  not  wish  it.  I — could  not 
have  accepted  it,'  faltered  the  young  man. 

*  But  I  am  going  to  buy  one  for  myself.  I  lack  a 
hobby,  and  I  shall  choose  astronomy.  I  shall  fix  my 
equatorial  on  the  column.* 

Swithin  brightened  up. 

*  And  I  shall  let  you  have  the  use  of  it  whenever 
you  choose.  In  brief,  Swithin  St.  Cleeve  shall  be 
Lady  Constantine's  Astronomer  Royal ;  and  she — and 
she — ' 

*  Shall  be  his  Queen.'  The  words  came  not  much 
the  worse  for  being  uttered  only  in  the  tone  of  one 
anxious  to  complete  a  tardy  sentence. 

'  Well,  that's  what  I  have  decided  to  do,*  resumed 
Lady  Constantine.  *  I  will  write  to  these  opticians  at 
once.' 

There  seemed  to  be  no  more  for  him  to  do  than 
to  thank  her  for  the  privilege,  whenever  it  should  be 
available,  which  he  promptly  did,  and  then  made  as 
if  to  go.  But  Lady  Constantine  detained  him  with, 
*  Have  you  ever  seen  my  library  }  * 

*  No  ;  never.' 

'  You  don't  say  you  would  like  to  see  it.' 

*  But  I  should.' 

'  It  is  the  third  door  on  the  right.  You  can  find 
your  way  in,  and  you  can  stay  there  as  long  as  you 
like.' 

Swithin  then  left  the  morning-room  for  the  apart- 
ment designated,  and  amused  himself  in  that  *  soul  of 
the  house,'  as  Cicero  defined  it,  till  he  heard  the  lunch- 
bell  sounding  from  the  turret,  when  he  came  down 
from  the  library  steps,  and  thought  it  time  to  go  home. 
But  at  that  moment  a  servant  entered  to  inquire 
whether  he  would  or  would  not  prefer  to  have  his 
lunch  brought  in  to  him  there  ;    at  his  affirmative  a 

56 


i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

large  tray  arrived  on  the  stomach  of  a  footman,  and 
Swithin  was  greatly  surprised  to  see  a  whole  pheasant 
placed  at  his  disposal. 

Having  breakfasted  at  eight  that  morning,  and 
having  been  much  in  the  open  air  afterwards,  the 
Adonis-astronomer's  appetite  assumed  grand  pro- 
portions. How  much  of  that  pheasant  he  might 
consistently  eat  without  hurting  his  dear  patroness 
Lady  Constantine's  feelings,  when  he  could  readily  eat 
it  all,  was  a  problem  in  which  the  reasonableness  of  a 
larger  and  larger  quantity  argued  itself  inversely  as  a 
smaller  and  smaller  quantity  remained.  When,  at 
length,  he  had  finally  decided  on  a  terminal  point  in 
the  body  of  the  bird,  the  door  was  gently  opened. 

'  O,  you  have  not  finished  ?  '  came  to  him  over  his 
shoulder,  in  a  considerate  voice. 

*0  yes,  thank  you,  Lady  Constantine,'  he  said, 
jumping  up.  ^ 

*  Why  did  you  prefer  to  lunch  in  this  awkward, 
dusty  place  ? ' 

*  I  thought — it  would  be  better,'  said  Swithin 
simply. 

*  There  is  fruit  in  the  other  room,  if  you  like  to 
come.      But  perhaps  you  would  rather  not  ? ' 

*  O  yes,  I  should  much  like  to,'  said  Swithin,  walk- 
ing over  his  napkin,  and  following  her  as  she  led  the 
way  to  the  adjoining  apartment. 

Here,  while  she  asked  him  what  he  had  been 
reading,  he  modestly  ventured  on  an  apple,  in  whose 
flavour  he  recognized  the  familiar  taste  of  old  friends 
robbed  from  her  husband's  orchards  in  his  childhood, 
long  before  Lady  Constantine's  advent  on  the  scene, 
^he  supposed  he  had  confined  his  search  to  his  own 
sublime  subject,  astronomy  ? 

Swithin  suddenly  became  older  to  the  eye,  as  his 
thoughts  reverted  to  the  topic  thus  reintroduced. 
*Yes,'  he  informed  her.  *I  seldom  read  any  other 
subject.  In  these  days  the  secret  of  productive 
study  is  to  avoid  well.' 

57 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Did  you  find  any  good  treatises  ?  * 

'  None.  The  theories  in  your  books  are  almost  as 
obsolete  as  the  Ptolemaic  System.  Only  fancy,  that 
magnificent  Cyclopaedia,  leather-bound,  and  stamped, 
and  gilt,  and  wide  margined,  and  bearing  the  blazon 
of  your  house  in  magnificent  colours,  says  that  the 
twinkling  of  the  stars  is  probably  caused  by  heavenly 
bodies  passing  in  front  of  them  in  their  revolutions.' 

*  And  is  it  not  so  }  That  was  what  I  learned  when 
I  was  a  girl.' 

The  modern  Eudoxus  now  rose  above  the  embar- 
rassing horizon  of  Lady  Constantine's  great  house, 
magnificent  furniture,  and  awe-inspiring  footman  and 
butler.  He  became  quite  natural,  all  his  self-conscious- 
ness fled,  and  his  eye  spoke  into  hers  no  less  than  his 
lips  to  her  ears,  as  he  said,  '  How  such  a  theory  can 
have  lingered  on  to  this  day  beats  conjecture  !  Francois 
Arago,  as  long  as  forty  or  fifty  years  ago,  conclusively 
established  the  fact  that  scintillation  is  the  simplest 
thing  in  the  world, — merely  a  matter  of  atmosphere. 
But  I  won't  speak  of  this  to  you  now.  The  compara- 
tive absence  of  scintillation  in  warm  countries  was 
noticed  by  Humboldt.  Then,  again,  the  scintillations 
vary.  No  star  flaps  his  wings  like  Sirius  when  he  lies 
low  !  He  flashes  out  emeralds  and  rubies,  amethystine 
flames  and  sapphirine  colours,  in  a  manner  quite  mar- 
vellous to  behold,  and  this  is  only  07te  star !  So,  too,  do 
Arcturus,  and  Capella,  and  lesser  luminaries.  .  .  .  But 
I  tire  you  with  this  subject  } ' 

'  On  the  contrary,  you  speak  so  beautifully  that  I 
could  listen  all  day.* 

The  astronomer  threw  a  searching  glance  upon  her 
for  a  moment ;  but  there  was  no  satire  in  the  warm 
soft  eyes  which  met  his  own  with  a  luxurious  contem- 
plative interest.  'Say  some  more  of  it  to  me,'  she 
continued,  with  a  mien  not  far  removed  from  coaxing. 

After  some  hesitation  the  subject  returned  again  to 
his  lips,  and  he  said  some  more — indeed,  much  more  ; 
Lady  Constantine  often  throwing  in   an   appreciative 

58 


i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

remark  or  question,  often  meditatively  regarding  him, 
in  pursuance  of  ideas  not  exactly  based  on  his  words, 
and  letting  him  go  on  as  he  would. 

Before  he  left  the  house  the  new  astronomical  pro- 
ject was  set  in  train.  The  top  of  the  column  was  to 
be  roofed  In,  to  form  a  proper  observatory  ;  and  on  the 
ground  that  he  knew  better  than  any  one  else  how  this 
was  to  be  carried  out,  she  requested  him  to  give  precise 
directions  on  the  point,  and  to  superintend  the  whole. 
A  wooden  cabin  was  to  be  erected  at  the  foot  of  the 
tower,  to  provide  better  accommodation  for  casual 
visitors  to  the  observatory  than  the  spiral  staircase  and 
lead-flat  afforded.  As  this  cabin  would  be  completely 
burled  in  the  dense  fir  foliage  which  enveloped  the 
lower  part  of  the  column  and  its  pedestal,  it  would  be 
no  disfigurement  to  the  general  appearance.  Finally, 
a  path  was  to  be  made  across  the  surrounding  fallow, 
by  which  she  might  easily  approach  the  scene  of  her 
new  study. 

When  he  was  gone  she  wrote  to  the  firm  of  opti- 
cians concerning  the  equatorial  for  whose  reception  all 
this  was  de^^igned. 

The  undertaking  was  soon  in  full  progress  ;  and 
by  degrees  it  became  the  talk  of  the  hamlets  round 
that  Lady  Constantine  had  given  up  melancholy  for 
astronomy,  to  the  great  advantage  of  all  who  came  in 
contact  with  her.  One  morning,  when  Tabitha  Lark 
had  come  as  usual  to  read,  Lady  Constantine  chanced 
to  be  in  a  quarter  of  the  house  to  which  she  seldom 
wandered  ;  and  while  here  she  heard  her  maid  talking 
confidentially  to  Tabitha  in  the  adjoining  room  on  the 
curious  and  sudden  interest  which  Lady  Constantine 
Hiad  acquired  in  the  moon  and  stars. 

'  They  do  say  all  sorts  of  trumpery,'  observed  the 
handmaid.  *  They  say — though  'tis  little  better  than 
mischief,  to  be  sure — that  it  isn't  the  moon,  and  it 
isn't  the  stars,  and  it  isn't  the  plannards,  that  my 
lady  cares  for,  but  for  the  pretty  lad  who  draws  *em 
down  from  the  sky  to  please  her ;  and  being  a  married 

59 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

example,  and  what  with  sin  and  shame  knocking  at 
every  poor  maid's  door  afore  you  can  say,  '*  Hands  off, 
my  dear,"  to  the  civilest  young  man,  she  ought  to  set 
a  better  pattern.' 

Lady  Constantine's  face  flamed  up  vividly. 

*  If  Sir  Blount  were  to  come  back  all  of  a  sudden — 
O,  my ! ' 

Lady  Constantine  grew  cold  as  ice. 

'There's  nothing   in   it,'   said   Tabitha  scornfully. 

*  I  could  prove  it  any  day.* 

*  Well,  I  wish  I  had  half  her  chance ! '  sighed  the 
lady's  maid.  And  no  more  was  said  on  the  subject 
then. 

Tabitha's  remark  showed  that  the  suspicion  was 
quite  in  embryo  as  yet.  Nevertheless,  saying  nothing 
to  reveal  what  she  had  overheard,  immediately  after 
the  reading  Lady  Constantine  flew  like  a  bird  to 
where  she  knew  that  Swithin  might  be  found. 

He  was  in  the  plantation,  setting  up  little  sticks  to 
mark  where  the  wooden  cabin  was  to  stand.  She 
called  him  to  a  remote  place  under  the  funereal  trees. 

*  I  have  altered  my  mind,'  she  said.  *  I  can  have 
nothing  to  do  with  this  matter.* 

*  Indeed  .f**  said  Swithin,  surprised. 

*  Astronomy  is  not  my  hobby  any  longer.  And 
you  are  not  my  Astronomer  Royal.' 

*  O  Lady  Constantine ! '  cried  the  youth,   aghast. 

*  Why,  the  work  is  begun !  I  thought  the  equatorial 
was  ordered.* 

She  dropped  her  voice,  though  a  Jericho  shout 
would  not  have  been  overheard:  '  Of  course  astronomy 
is  my  hobby  privately,  and  you  are  to  be  my 
Astronomer  Royal,  and  I  still  furnish  the  observatory  ; 
but  not  to  the  outer  world.  There  is  a  reason 
against  my  indulgence  in  such  scientific  fancies 
openly ;  and  the  project  must  be  arranged  in  this 
wise.  The  whole  enterprise  is  yours  :  you  rent  the 
tower  of  me :  you  build  the  cabin :  you  get  the 
equatorial.       I     simply    give    permission,    since    you 

60 


1 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

desire  it.  The  path  that  was  to  be  made  from  the 
hill  to  the  park  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  There  is  to 
be  no  communication  between  the  house  and  the 
column.  The  equatorial  will  arrive  addressed  to 
you,  and  its  cost  I  will  pay  through  you.  My  name 
must  not  appear,  and  I  vanish  entirely  from  the 
undertaking.  .  .  .  This  blind  is  necessary,'  she  added, 
sighing.     '  Good-bye  ! ' 

'  But  you  do  take  as  much  interest  as  before,  and 
it  will  be  yours  just  the  same  .'^'  he  said,  walking  after 
her.  He  scarcely  comprehended  the  subterfuge,  and 
was  absolutely  blind  as  to  its  reason. 

*  Can  you  doubt  it.'^     But  I  dare  not  do  it  openly.* 

With  this  she  went  away ;  and  in  due  time  there 
circulated  through  the  parish  an  assertion  that  it  was 
a  mistake  to  suppose  Lady  Constantine  had  anything 
to  do  with  Swithin  St.  Cleeve  or  his  star-gazing 
schemes.  She  had  merely  allowed  him  to  rent  the 
tower  of  her  for  use  as  his  observatory,  and  to  put 
some  temporary  fixtures  on  it  for  that  purpose. 

After  this  Lady  Constantine  lapsed  into  her  former 
life  of  loneliness  ;  and  by  these  prompt  measures  the 
ghost  of  a  rumour  which  had  barely  started  into 
existence  was  speedily  laid  to  rest.  It  had  probably 
originated  in  her  own  dwelling,  and  had  gone  but 
little  further.  Yet,  despite  her  self-control,  a  certain 
north  window  of  the  Great  House,  that  commanded 
an  uninterrupted  view  of  the  upper  ten  feet  of  the 
column,  revealed  her  to  be  somewhat  frequently 
gazing  from  it  at  a  rotundity  which  had  begun  to 
appear  on  the  summit.  To  those  with  whom  she 
.came  in  contact  she  sometimes  addressed  such 
"remarks  as,  '  Is  young  Mr.  St.  Cleeve  getting  on  with 
his  observatory  .'*  I  hope  he  will  fix  his  instruments 
without  damaging  the  column,  which  is  so  interesting 
to  us  as  being  in  memory  of  my  dear  husband's  great- 
grandfather— a  truly  brave  man.' 

On  one  occasion  her  building-steward  ventured  to 
suggest  to  her  that,  Sir  Blount  having  deputed  to  her 

6i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the  power  to  grant  short  leases  in  his  absence,  she 
should  have  a  distinctive  agreement  with  Swithin,  as 
between  landlord  and  tenant,  with  a  stringent  clause 
against  his  driving  nails  into  the  stonework  of  such 
an  historical  memorial.  She  replied  that  she  did  not 
wish  to  be  severe  on  the  last  representative  of  such 
old  and  respected  parishioners  as  St.  Cleeve's  mother's 
family  had  been,  and  of  such  a  well-descended  family 
as  his  father's  ;  so  that  it  would  only  be  necessary 
for  the  steward  to  keep  an  eye  on  Mr.  St.  Cleeve's 
doings. 

Further,  when  a  letter  arrived  at  the  Great  House 
from  Hilton  &  Pimm's,  the  opticians,  with  informa- 
tion that  the  equatorial  was  ready  and  packed,  and 
that  a  man  would  be  sent  with  it  to  fix  it,  she 
replied  to  that  firm  to  the  effect  that  their  letter 
should  have  been  addressed  to  Mr.  St.  Cleeve,  the 
loc^l  astronomer,  on  whose  behalf  she  had  made  the 
inquiries  ;  that  she  had  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  p, 
matter ;  that  he  would  receive  the  instrument  and  pay 
the  bill, — her  guarantee  being  given  for  the  latter 
performance. 


^i 


i 


VIII 

Lady  Constantine  then  had  the  pleasure  of  behold- 
ing a  waggon,  laden  with  packing-cases,  moving  across 
the  field  towards  the  pillar  ;  and  not  many  days  later 
S within,  who  had  never  come  to  the  Great  House 
since  the  luncheon,  met  her  in  a  path  which  he  knew 
to  be  one  of  her  promenades. 

*  The  equatorial  is  fixed,  and  the  man  gone,'  he 
said,  half  in  doubt  as  to  his  speech,  for  her  commands 
to  him  not  to  recognize  her  agency  or  patronage  still 
puzzled  him.  *  I  respectfully  wish — you  could  come 
and  see  it.  Lady  Constantine.' 

*  I  would  rather  not ;   I  cannot.' 

*  Saturn  is  lovely ;  Jupiter  is  simply  sublime  ;  I 
can  see  double  stars  in  the  Lion  and  in  the  Virgin, 
where  I  had  seen  only  a  single  one  before.  It  is  all  I 
required  to  set  me  going ! ' 

*  I'll  come.  But — you  need  say  nothing  about  my 
visit.  I  cannot  come  to-night,  but  I  will  some  time 
this  week.  Yet  only  this  once,  to  try  the  instrument. 
Afterwards  you  must  be  content  to  pursue  your  studies 
alone.' 

Swithin  seemed  but  little  affected  at  this  announce- 
.ment.     *  Hilton  &  Pimm's  man  handed  me  the  bill,'  he 
continued. 

*  How  much  is  it?' 

He  told  her.  'And  the  man  who  has  built  the 
hut  and  dome,  and  done  the  other  fixing,  has  sent  in 
his.'      He  named  this  amount  also. 

'Very  well.     They    shall    be    settled   with.     My 

63 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

debts  must  be  paid  with  my  money,  which  you  shall 
have  at  once, — in  cash,  since  a  cheque  would  hardly 
do.  Come  to  the  house  for  it  this  evening.  But  no, 
no — you  must  not  come  openly ;  such  is  the  world. 
Come  to  the  window — the  window  that  is  exactly  in  a 
line  with  the  long  snowdrop  bed,  in  the  south  front — 
at  eight  to-night,  and  I  will  give  you  what  is  necessary.' 

*  Certainly,  Lady  Constantine,'  said  the  young  man. 
At  eight  that  evening  accordingly,  Swithin  entered 

like  a  spectre  upon  the  terrace  to  seek  out  the  spot 
she  had  designated.  The  equatorial  had  so  entirely 
absorbed  his  thoughts  that  he  did  not  trouble  himself 
seriously  to  conjecture  the  why  and  wherefore  of  her 
secrecy.  If  he  casually  thought  of  it  he  set  it  down  in 
a  general  way  to  an  intensely  generous  wish  on  her 
part  not  to  lessen  his  influence  among  the  poorer 
inhabitants  by  making  him  appear  the  object  of 
patronage. 

While  he  stood  by  the  long  snowdrop  bed,  which 
looked  up  at  him  like  a  nether  Milky  Way,  the  French 
casement  of  the  adjoining  window  softly  opened,  and  a 
hand  bordered  by  a  glimmer  of  lace  was  stretched 
forth,  from  which  he  received  a  crisp  little  parcel, — 
bank-notes,  apparently.  He  knew  the  hand,  and  held 
it  long  enough  to  press  it  to  his  lips,  the  only  form 
which  had  ever  occurred  to  him  of  expressing  his 
gratitude  to  her  without  the  incumbrance  of  clumsy 
words,  a  vehicle  at  the  best  of  times  but  rudely  suited 
to  such  delicate  merchandise.  The  hand  was  hastily 
withdrawn,  as  if  the  treatment  had  been  unexpected. 
Then  seemingly  moved  by  second  thoughts  she  bent 
forward  and  said,  '  Is  the  night  good  for  observations  ? ' 

*  Perfect.' 

She  paused.  'Then  I'll  come  to-night,'  she  at  last 
whispered.  '  It  makes  no  difference  to  me,  after  all. 
Wait  just  one  moment.' 

He  waited,  and  she  presently  emerged,  muffled 
up  like  a  nun  ;  whereupon  they  left  the  terrace  and 
struck  across  the  park  together. 

64 


I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Very  little  was  said  by  either  till  they  were  crossing 
the  fallow,  when  he  asked  if  his  arm  would  help  her. 
She  did  not  take  the  offered  support  just  then  ;  but 
when  they  were  ascending  the  prehistoric  earthwork, 
under  the  heavy  gloom  of  the  fir-trees,  she  seized  it, 
as  if  rather  influenced  by  the  oppressive  solitude  than 
by  fatigue. 

Thus  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  column,  ten 
thousand  spirits  in  prison  seeming  to  gasp  their  griefs 
from  the  funereal  boughs  overhead,  and  a  few  twigs 
scratching  the  pillar  with  the  drag  of  impish  claws 
as  tenacious  as  those  figuring  in  St.  Anthony's  tempta- 
tion. 

*  How  intensely  dark  it  is  just  here  ! '  she  whispered. 
*  I  wonder  you  can  keep  in  the  path.  Many  ancient 
Britons  lie  buried  there  doubtless.' 

He  led  her  round  to  the  other  side,  where,  feeling 
his  way  with  his  hands,  he  suddenly  left  her,  appearing 
a  moment  after  with  a  light. 

*  What  place  is  this  ? '  she  exclaimed. 

*  This  is  the  new  wood  cabin,'  said  he. 

She  could  just  discern  the  outline  of  a  little  house, 
not  unlike  a  bathing-machine  without  wheels. 

*  I  have  kept  lights  ready  here,'  he  went  on,  *as  I 
thought  you  might  come  any  evening,  and  possibly 
bring  company.' 

'  Don't  criticize  me  for  coming  alone,'  she  exclaimed 
with  sensitive  promptness.  '  There  are  social  reasons 
for  what  I  do  of  which  you  know  nothing.' 

*  Perhaps  it  is  much  to  my  discredit  that  I  don't 
know.' 

*  Not  at  all.  You  are  all  the  better  for  it.  Heaven 
forbid  that  I  should  enlighten  you.  Well,  I  see  this  is 
the  hut.  But  I  am  more  curious  to  go  to  the  top  of 
the  tower,  and  make  discoveries.' 

He  brought  a  little  lantern  from  the  cabin,  and 
lighted  her  up  the  winding  staircase  to  the  temple  of 
that  sublime  mystery  on  whose  threshold  he  stood  as 
priest. 

65 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  top  of  the  column  was  quite  changed.  The 
tub-shaped  space  within  the  parapet,  formerly  open  to 
the  air  and  sun,  was  now  arched  over  by  a  light  dome 
of  lath-work  covered  with  felt.  But  this  dome  was 
not  fixed.  At  the  line  where  its  base  descended  to 
the  parapet  there  were  half  a  dozen  iron  balls,  precisely 
like  cannon-shot,  standing  loosely  in  a  groove,  and  on 
these  the  dome  rested  its  whole  weight.  In  the  side 
of  the  dome  was  a  slit,  through  which  the  wind  blew 
and  the  North  Star  beamed,  and  towards  it  the  end  of 
the  great  telescope  was  directed.  This  latter  magnifi- 
cent object,  with  its  circles,  axes,  and  handles  complete, 
was  securely  fixed  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

*  But  you  can  only  see  one  part  of  the  sky  through 
that  slit,'  said  she. 

The  astronomer  stretched  out  his  arm,  and  the 
whole  dome  turned  horizontally  round,  running  on  the 
balls  with  a  rumble  like  thunder.  Instead  of  the  star 
Polaris,  which  had  first  been  peeping  in  through  the 
slit,  there  now  appeared  the  countenances  of  Castor 
and  Pollux.  Swithin  then  manipulated  the  equatorial, 
and  put  it  through  its  capabilities  in  like  manner. 

She  was  enchanted ;  being  rather  excitable  she 
even  clapped  her  hands  just  once.  She  turned  to  him  : 
'  Now  are  you  happy  ? ' 

'  But  it  is  3\\  yours,  Lady  Constantine.' 

*  At  this  moment.  But  that's  a  defect  which  can 
soon  be  remedied.     When  is  your  birthday  ?  ' 

'  Next  month, — the  seventh.' 

*  Then  it  shall  all  be  yours, — a  birthday  present.* 
The  young  man  protested  ;  it  was  too  much. 

'  No,  you  must  accept  it  all, — equatorial,  dome, 
stand,  hut,  and  everything  that  has  been  put  here  for 
this  astronomical  purpose.  The  possession  of  these 
apparatus  would  only  compromise  me.  Already  they 
are  reputed  to  be  yours,  and  they  must  be  made  yours. 
There  is  no  help  for  it.  If  ever'  (here  her  voice  lost 
some  firmness), — *  if  ever  you  go  away  from  me, — 
from  this  place,  I  mean, — and  marry,  and  settle  in  a 

66 


i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

new  home  elsewhere  for  good,  and  forget  me,  you 
must  take  these  things,  equatorial  and  all,  and  never 
tell  your  wife  or  anybody  how  they  came  to  be 
yours.' 

'  I  wish  I  could  do  something  more  for  you ! '  ex- 
claimed the  much-moved  astronomer.  '  If  you  could 
but  share  my  fame, — supposing  I  get  any,  which  I 
may  die  before  doing, — it  would  be  a  little  compensa- 
tion. As  to  my  going  away  and  marrying,  I  certainly 
shall  not.      I  may  go  away,  but  I  shall  never  marry.' 

'  Why  not  ?  ' 

*  A  beloved  science  is  enough  wife  for  me, — com- 
bined, perhaps,  with  a  little  warm  friendship  with  one 
of  kindred  pursuits.' 

*  Who  is  the  friend  of  kindred  pursuits  ? ' 

*  Yourself  I  should  like  it  to  be.' 

*  You  would  have  to  become  a  woman  before  I 
could  be  that,  publicly ;  or  I  a  man,'  she  replied,  with 
dry  melancholy. 

*  Why  I  a  woman,  or  you  a  man,  dear  Lady  Con- 
stantine  ? ' 

'  I  cannot  explain.  No  ;  you  must  keep  your  fame 
and  your  science  all  to  yourself,  and  I  must  keep  my — 
troubles.' 

Swithin,  to  divert  her  from  melancholy — not  know- 
ing that  in  the  expression  of  her  melancholy  thus  and 
now  she  found  much  pleasure, — changed  the  subject  by 
asking  if  they  should  take  some  observations. 

*  Yes ;  the  scenery  is  well  hung  to-night,'  she  said, 
looking  out  upon  the  heavens. 

Then  they  proceeded  to  scan  the  sky,  roving  from 
planet  to  star,  from  single  stars  to  double  stars,  from 
double  to  coloured  stars,  in  the  cursory  manner  of  the 
merely  curious.  They  plunged  down  to  that  at  other 
times  invisible  multitude  in  the  back  rows  of  the 
celestial  theatre  :  remote  layers  of  constellations  whose 
shapes  were  new  and  singular ;  pretty  twinklers  which 
for  infinite  ages  had  spent  their  beams  without  calling 
forth  from  a  single  earthly  poet  a  single  line,  or  being 

67 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

able  to  bestow  a  ray  of  comfort  on  a  single  benighted 
traveller. 

'And  to  think,'  said  Lady  Constantine,  'that  the 
whole  race  of  shepherds,  since   the  beginning  of  the     | 
world, — even  those  immortal  shepherds  who  watched     f 
near  Bethlehem, — should  have  gone  into  their  graves     i 
without  knowing  that  for  one  star  that  lighted  them  in 
their  labours,  there  were   a  hundred  as  good  behind     'i 
trying  to  do  so !  ...   I  have  a  feeling  for  this  instru- 
ment not  unlike  the  awe  I  should  feel  in  the  presence 
of  a  great  magician  in  whom   I   really  believed.      Its 
powers  are  so   enormous,  and  weird,  and  fantastical, 
that  I   should  have  a  personal   fear  in  being  with  it 
alone.     Music  drew  an  angel  down,  said  the  poet :  but     i 
what  is  that  to  drawing  down  worlds ! ' 

*  I  often  experience  a  kind  of  fear  of  the  sky  after 
sitting  in  the  observing-chair  a  long  time,'  he  answered. 
*  And  when  I  walk  home  afterwards  I  also  fear  it  for 
what  I  know  is  there,  but  cannot  see,  as  one  naturally 
fears  the  presence  of  a  vast  formless  something  that 
only  reveals  a  very  little  of  itself.  That's  partly  what 
I  meant  by  saying  that  magnitude,  which  up  to  a 
certain  point  has  grandeur,  has  beyond  it  ghastliness.' 

Thus  the  interest  of  their  sidereal  observations  led 
them  on,  till  the  knowledge  that  scarce  any  other 
human  vision  was  travelling  within  a  hundred  million 
miles  of  their  own  gave  them  such  a  sense  of  the  isola- 
tion of  that  faculty  as  almost  to  be  a  sense  of  isolation 
in  respect  of  their  whole  personality,  causing  a  shudder 
at  its  absoluteness.  At  night,  when  human  discords 
and  harmonies  are  hushed,  in  a  general  sense,  for  the 
greater  part  of  twelve  hours,  there  is  nothing  to  ^  - 
moderate  the  blow  with  which  the  infinitely  great,  the  '  Lac 
stellar  universe,  strikes  down  upon  the  infinitely  little, 
the  mind  of  the  beholder ;  and  this  was  the  case  now. 
Having  got  closer  to  immensity  than  their  fellow- 
creatures,  they  saw  at  once  its  beauty  and  its  frightful- 
ness.  They  more  and  more  felt  the  contrast  between 
their  own   tiny  magnitudes  and  those   among  which 

68 


I 


by 

anc 
alii 


bee 
toe 
spo^ 

tlie( 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

they  had  recklessly  plunged,  till  they  were  oppressed 
with  the  presence  of  a  vastness  they  could  not  cope 
with  even  as  an  idea,  and  which  hung  about  them  like 
a  nightmare. 

He  stood  by  her  while  she  observed  ;  she  by  him 
when  they  changed  places.  Once  that  Swithin's 
emancipation  from  a  trammelling  body  had  been 
effected  by  the  telescope,  and  he  was  well  away  in 
space,  she  felt  her  influence  over  him  diminishing  to 
nothing.  He  was  quite  unconscious  of  his  terrestrial 
neighbourings,  and  of  herself  as  one  of  them.  It  still 
further  reduced  her  towards  unvarnished  simplicity  in 
her  manner  to  him. 

The  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  ticking  of  the 
clock-work  which  gave  diurnal  motion  to  the  instru- 
ment. The  stars  moved  on,  the  end  of  the  telescope 
followed,  but  their  tongues  stood  still.  To  expect 
that  he  was  ever  voluntarily  going  to  end  the  pause 
by  speech  was  apparently  futile.  She  laid  her  hand 
upon  his  arm. 

He  started,  withdrew  his  eye  from  the  telescope, 
and  brought  himself  back  to  the  earth  by  a  visible — 
almost  painful — effort. 

*  Do  come  out  of  it,'  she  coaxed,  with  a  softness 
in  her  voice  which  any  man  but  unpractised  S within 
would  have  felt  to  be  exquisite.  '  I  feel  that  I  have 
been  so  foolish  as  to  put  in  your  hands  an  instrument 
to  effect  my  own  annihilation.  Not  a  word  have  you 
spoken  for  the  last  ten  minutes.' 

'  I  have  been  mentally  getting  on  with  my  great 
theory.     I  hope  soon  to  be  able  to  publish  it  to  the 
world.     What,  are  you  going  ?     I  will  walk  with  you, 
^Lady  Constantine.     When  will  you  come  again  ?  ' 

*  When  your  great  theory  is  published  to  the  world.* 


IX 

Lady  Constantine,  if  narrowly  observed  at  this  time, 
would  have  seemed  to  be  deeply  troubled  in  conscience, 
and  particularly  after  the  interview  above  described. 
Ash-Wednesday  occurred  in  the  calendar  a  few  days 
later,  and  she  went  to  morning  service  with  a  look 
of  genuine  contrition  on  her  emotional  and  yearning 
countenance. 

Besides  herself  the  congregation  consisted  only  of 
the  parson,  clerk,  school-children,  and  three  old  people 
living  on  alms,  who  sat  under  the  reading-desk  ;  and 
thus,  when  Mr.  Torkingham  blazed  forth  the  denun- 
ciatory sentences  of  the  Commination,  nearly  the  whole 
force  of  them  seemed  to  descend  upon  her  own  shrink- 
ing shoulders.  Looking  across  the  empty  pews  she 
saw  through  the  one  or  two  clear  panes  of  the  window 
opposite  a  youthful  figure  in  the  churchyard,  and  the 
very  feeling  against  which  she  had  tried  to  pray  re- 
turned again  irresistibly. 

When  she  came  out  and  had  crossed  into  the 
private  walk,  S within  came  forward  to  speak  to  her. 
This  was  a  most  unusual  circumstance,  and  argued  a 
matter  of  importance. 

'  I  have  made  an  amazing  discovery  in  connexion 
with  the  variable  stars,'  he  exclaimed.  *  It  will  excite 
the  whole  astronomical  world,  and  the  world  outside 
but  little  less.  I  had  long  suspected  the  true  secret 
of  their  variability ;  but  it  was  by  the  merest  chance 
on  earth  that  I  hit  upon  a  proof  of  my  guess.  Your 
equatorial  has  done  it,  my  good,  kind  Lady  Constantine, 
and  our  fame  is  established  for  ever !  * 

70 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

He  sprang  into  the  air,  and  waved  his  hat  in  his 
triumph. 

'  O,  I  am  so  glad — so  rejoiced  ! '  she  cried.  '  What 
is  it  ?  But  don't  stop  to  tell  me.  Publish  it  at  once 
in  some  paper ;  nail  your  name  to  it,  or  somebody  will 
seize  the  idea  and  appropriate  it, — forestall  you  in  some 
way.      It  will  be  Adams  and  Leverrier  over  again.' 

*  If  I  may  walk  with  you  I  will  explain  the  nature 
of  the  discovery.  It  accounts  for  the  occasional  green 
tint  of  Castor,  and  every  difficulty.  I  said  I  would  be 
the  Copernicus  of  the  stellar  system,  and  I  have  begun 
to  be.     Yet  who  knows  ?  ' 

*  Now  don't  be  so  up  and  down !  I  shall  not 
understand  your  explanation,  and  I  would  rather  not 
know  it.  I  shall  reveal  it  if  it  is  very  grand.  W^omen, 
you  know,  are  not  safe  depositaries  of  such  valuable 
secrets.  You  may  walk  with  me  a  little  way,  with 
great  pleasure.  Then  go  and  write  your  account,  so 
as  to  insure  your  ownership  of  the  discovery.  .  .  .  But 
how  you  have  watched ! '  she  cried,  in  a  sudden 
accession  of  anxiety,  as  she  turned  to  look  more  closely 
at  him.  *  The  orbits  of  your  eyes  are  leaden,  and  your 
eyelids  are  red  and  heavy.  Don't  do  it — pray  don't. 
You  will  be  ill,  and  break  down.' 

*  I  have,  it  is  true,  been  up  a  little  late  this  last 
week,'  he  said  cheerfully.  *  In  fact,  I  couldn't  tear 
myself  away  from  the  equatorial ;  it  is  such  a  wonderful 
possession  that  it  keeps  me  there  till  daylight.  But 
what  does  that  matter,  now  I  have  made  the  dis- 
covery ? ' 

*  Ah,  it  does  matter !  Now,  promise  me — I  insist 
— that  you  will  not  commit  such  imprudences  again ; 

■^or  what  should  I  do  if  my  Astronomer  Royal  were  to 
die?' 

She  laughed,  but  far  too  apprehensively  to  be 
effective  as  a  display  of  levity. 

They  parted,  and  he  went  home  to  write  out  his 
paper.  He  promised  to  call  as  soon  as  his  discovery 
was  in  print.     Then  they  waited  for  the  result. 

71 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

It  IS  impossible  to  describe  the  tremulous  state  of 
Lady  Constantine  during  the  interval.  The  warm 
interest  she  took  in  Swithin  St.  Cleeve — many  would 
have  said  dangerously  warm  interest — made  his  hopes 
her  hopes ;  and  though  she  sometimes  admitted  to 
herself  that  great  allowance  was  requisite  for  the  over- 
weening confidence  of  youth  in  the  future,  she  per- 
mitted herself  to  be  blinded  to  probabilities  for  the 
pleasure  of  sharing  his  dreams.  It  seemed  not  un- 
reasonable to  suppose  the  present  hour  to  be  the  be- 
ginning of  realization  to  her  darling  wish  that  this 
young  man  should  become  famous.  He  had  worked 
hard,  and  why  should  he  not  be  famous  early  .'^  His 
very  simplicity  in  mundane  affairs  afforded  a  strong 
presumption  that  in  things  celestial  he  might  be  wise. 
To  obtain  support  for  this  hypothesis  she  had  only  to 
think  over  the  lives  of  many  eminent  astronomers. 

She  waited  feverishly  for  the  flourish  of  trumpets 
from  afar,  by  which  she  expected  the  announcement 
of  his  discovery  to  be  greeted.  Knowing  that  im- 
mediate intelligence  of  the  outburst  would  be  brought 
to  her  by  himself,  she  watched  from  the  windows  of 
the  Great  House  each  morning  for  a  sight  of  his  figure 
hastening  down  the  glade. 

But  he  did  not  come. 

A  long  array  of  wet  days  passed  their  dreary  shapes 
before  her,  and  made  the  waiting  still  more  tedious. 
On  one  of  these  occasions  she  ran  across  to  the  tower, 
at  the  risk  of  a  severe  cold.     The  door  was  locked. 

Two  days  after  she  went  again.  The  door  was 
locked  still.  But  this  was  only  to  be  expected  in  such 
weather.  Yet  she  would  have  gone  on  to  his  house, 
had  there  not  been  one  reason  too  many  against  such 
precipitancy.  As  astronomer  and  astronomer  there 
was  no  harm  in  their  meetings  ;  but  as  woman  and 
man  she  feared  them. 

Ten  days  passed  without  a  sight  of  him ;  ten  blurred 
and  dreary  days,  during  which  the  whole  landscape 
dripped  like  a  mop  ;  the  park  trees  swabbed  the  gravel 

72 


I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

from  the  drive,  while  the  sky  was  a  zinc-coloured  archi- 
vault  of  immovable  cloud.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole 
science  of  astronomy  had  never  been  real,  and  that  the 
heavenly  bodies,  with  their  motions,  were  as  theoretical 
as  the  lines  and  circles  of  a  bygone  mathematical 
problem. 

She  could  content  herself  no  longer  with  fruitless 
visits  to  the  column,  and  when  the  rain  had  a  little 
abated  she  walked  to  the  nearest  hamlet,  and  in  a 
conversation  with  the  first  old  woman  she  met  con- 
trived to  lead  up  to  the  subject  of  S within  St.  Cleeve 
by  talking  about  his  grandmother. 

*  Ah,  poor  old  heart ;  'tis  a  bad  time  for  her,  my 
lady  ! '  exclaimed  the  dame. 

'  What  ? ' 

*  Her  grandson  is  dying ;  and  such  a  gentleman 
through  and  through  !  * 

*  What !  .  .  .  O,  it  has  something  to  do  with  that 
dreadful  discovery ! ' 

*  Discovery,  my  lady  ?  * 

She  left  the  old  woman  with  an  evasive  answer,  and 
with  a  breaking  heart  crept  along  the  road.  Tears 
brimmed  as  she  walked,  and  by  the  time  that  she  was 
out  of  sight  sobs  burst  forth  tumultuously. 

*  I  am  too  fond  of  him  ! '  she  moaned  ;  *  but  I  can't 
help  it ;  and  I  don't  care  if  it's  wrong, — I  don't  care  ! ' 

Without  further  considerations  as  to  who  beheld 
her  doings  she  instinctively  w^ent  straight  towards  Mrs. 
Martin's.  Seeing  a  man  coming  she  calmed  herself 
sufficiently  to  ask  him  through  her  dropped  veil  how 
poor  Mr.  St.  Cleeve  was  that  day.  But  she  only  got 
the  same  reply  :   '  They  say  he  is  dying,  my  lady.' 

When  Swithin  had  parted  from  Lady  Constantine, 
on  the  previous  Ash-Wednesday,  he  had  gone  straight 
to  the  homestead  and  prepared  his  account  of  *  A  New 
Astronomical  Discovery.'  It  was  written  perhaps  in 
too  glowing  a  rhetoric  for  the  true  scientific  tone  of 
mind  ;  but  there  was  no  doubt  that  his  assertion  met 
with  a  most  startling  aptness  all  the  difficulties  which 

73 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER  | 


had  accompanied  the  received  theories  on  the  pheno- 
mena attending  those  changeable  suns  of  marvellous 
systems  so  far  away.  It  accounted  for  the  nebulous 
mist  that  surrounds  some  of  them  at  their  weakest 
time  ;  in  short,  took  up  a  position  of  probability  which 
has  never  yet  been  successfully  assailed. 

The  papers  were  written  in  triplicate,  and  carefully 
sealed  up  with  blue  wax.  One  copy  was  directed  to 
Greenwich,  another  to  the  Royal  Society,  another  to 
a  prominent  astronomer.  A  brief  statement  of  the 
essence  of  the  discovery  was  also  prepared  for  the 
leading  daily  paper. 

He  considered  these  documents,  embodying  as  they 
did  two  years  of  his  constant  thought,  reading,  and 
observation,  too  important  to  be  entrusted  for  posting 
to  the  hands  of  a  messenger ;  too  important  to  be  sent 
to  the  sub-post-office  at  hand.  Though  the  day  was 
wet,  dripping  wet,  he  went  on  foot  with  them  to  a  chief 
office,  five  miles  off,  and  registered  them.  Quite  ex- 
hausted by  the  walk  after  his  long  night-work,  wet 
through,  yet  sustained  by  the  sense  of  a  great  achieve- 
ment, he  called  at  a  bookseller's  for  the  astronomical 
periodicals  to  which  he  subscribed  ;  then,  resting  for  a 
short  time  at  an  inn,  he  plodded  his  way  homewards, 
reading  his  papers  as  he  went,  and  planning  how  to 
enjoy  a  repose  on  his  laurels  of  a  week  or  more. 

On  he  strolled  through  the  rain,  holding  the  um- 
brella vertically  over  the  exposed  page  to  keep  it  dry 
while  he  read.  Suddenly  his  eye  was  struck  by  an 
article.  It  was  the  review  of  a  pamphlet  by  an 
American  astronomer,  in  which  the  author  announced 
a  conclusive  discovery  with  regard  to  variable  stars. 

The  discovery  was  precisely  the  discovery  of 
Swithin  St.  Cleeve.  Another  man  had  forestalled  his 
fame  by  a  period  of  about  six  weeks. 

Then  the  youth  found  that  the  goddess  Philosophy, 
to  whom  he  had  vowed  to  dedicate  his  whole  life, 
would  not  in  return  support  him  through  a  single  hour 
of  despair.     In  truth,  the  impishness  of  circumstance 

74 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

was  newer  to  him  than  it  would  have  been  to  a  philo- 
sopher of  threescore-and-ten.  In  a  wild  wish  for 
annihilation  he  flung  himself  down  on  a  patch  of 
heather  that  lay  a  little  removed  from  the  road,  and  in 
this  humid  bed  remained  motionless,  while  time  passed 
by  unheeded. 

At  last,  from  sheer  misery  and  weariness,  he  fell 
asleep. 

The  March  rain  pelted  him  mercilessly,  the  beaded 
moisture  from  the  heavily  charged  locks  of  heath  pene- 
trated him  through  back  and  sides,  and  clotted  his 
hair  to  unsightly  tags  and  tufts.  When  he  awoke  it 
was  dark.  He  thought  of  his  grandmother,  and  of 
her  possible  alarm  at  missing  him.  On  attempting  to 
rise,  he  found  that  he  could  hardly  bend  his  joints,  and 
that  his  clothes  were  as  heivy  as  lead  from  saturation. 
His  teeth  chattering  and  his  knees  trembling  he 
pursued  his  way  home,  where  his  appearance  excited 
great  concern.  He  was  obliged  at  once  to  retire  to 
bed,  and  the  next  day  he  was  delirious  from  the  chill. 

It  was  about  ten  days  after  this  unhappy  occurrence 
that  Lady  Constantine  learnt  the  news,  as  above  de- 
scribed, and  hastened  along  to  the  homestead  in  that 
state  of  anguish  in  which  the  heart  is  no  longer  under 
the  control  of  the  judgment,  and  self-abandonment, 
even  to  error,  verges  on  heroism. 

On  reaching  the  house  in  Welland  Bottom  the 
door  was  opened  to  her  by  old  Hannah,  who  wore  an 
assiduously  sorrowful  look ;  and  Lady  Constantine 
was  shown  into  the  large  room, — so  wide  that  the 
beams  bent  in  the  middle, — where  she  took  her  seat 
in  one  of  a  methodic  range  of  chairs,  beneath  a  portrait 
of  the  Reverend  Mr.  St.  Cleeve,  her  astronomer's 
erratic  father. 

The  eight  unwatered  dying  plants,  in  the  row  of 
eight  flower-pots,  denoted  that  there  was  something 
wronpf  in  the  house.  Mrs.  Martin  came  downstairs 
fretting,  her  wonder  at  beholding  Lady  Constantine 
not  altogether  displacing  the  previous  mood  of  grief. 

75 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Here's  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish,  my  lady !  *  she 
exclaimed. 

Lady  Constantine  said,  *  Hush ! '  and  pointed  in- 
quiringly upward. 

*  He  is  not  overhead,  my  lady,'  replied  Swithin's 
grandmother.  *  His  bedroom  is  at  the  back  of  the 
house.' 

'  How  is  he  now?* 

*  He  is  better,  just  at  this  moment ;  and  we  are 
more  hopeful.      But  he  changes  so.' 

*  May  I  go  up  ?     I  know  he  would  like  to  see  me.' 
Her   presence   having    been   made   known   to  the 

sufferer  she  was  conducted  upstairs  to  Swithin's  room. 
The  way  thither  was  through  the  large  chamber  he 
had  used  as  a  study  and  for  the  manufacture  of  optical 
instruments.  \  .There  lay  the  large  pasteboard  telescope 
that  had  been  just  such  a  failure  as  Crusoe's  large 
boat ;  there  were  his  diagrams,  maps,  globes,  and 
celestial  apparatus  of  various  sorts.  The  absence  of 
the  worker  through  illness  or  death  is  sufficient  to 
touch  the  prosiest  workshop  and  tools  with  the  hues  of 
pathos,  and  it  was  with  a  swelling  bosom  that  Lady 
Constantine  passed  through  this  arena  of  his  youthful 
activities  to  the  little  chamber  where  he  lay. 

Old  Mrs.  Martin  sat  down  by  the  window,  and 
Lady  Constantine  bent  over  Swithin. 

'  Don't  speak  to  me ! '  she  whispered.  *  It  will 
weaken  you  ;  it  will  excite  you.  If  you  do  speak,  it 
must  be  very  softly.' 

She  took  his  hand,  and  one  irrepressible  tear  fell 
upon  it. 

'  Nothing  will  excite  me  now.  Lady  Constantine,' 
he  said  ;  '  not  even  your  goodness  in  coming.  My 
last  excitement  was  when  I  lost  the  battle.  .  .  .  Do 
you  know  that  my  discovery  has  been  forestalled?  It 
is  that  that's  killing  me.' 

'  But  you  are  going  to  recover ;  you  are  better, 
they  say.     Is  it  so? ' 

*  I  think  I  am,  to-day.     But  who  can  be  sure  ?  * 

76 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  The  poor  boy  was  so  upset  at  finding  that  his 
labour  had  been  thrown  away,'  said  his  grandmother, 
*  that  he  lay  down  in  the  rain,  and  chilled  his  life  out.' 

'  How  could  you  do  it  ? '  Lady  Constantine 
whispered.  *  O,  how  could  you  think  so  much  of 
renown,  and  so  little  of  me  ?  Why,  for  every  discovery 
made  there  are  ten  behind  that  await  making.  To 
commit  suicide  like  this,  as  if  there  were  nobody  in 
the  world  to  care  for  you  ! ' 

*  It  was  done  in  my  haste,  and  I  am  very,  very 
sorry  for  it !  I  beg  both  you  and  all  my  few  friends 
never,  never  to  forgive  me !  It  would  kill  me  with 
self-reproach  if  you  were  to  pardon  my  rashness  ! ' 

At  this  moment  the  doctor  was  announced,  and 
Mrs.  Martin  went  downstairs  to  receive  him.  Lady 
Constantine  thought  she  would  remain  to  hear  his 
report,  and  for  this  purpose  withdrew,  and  sat  down 
in  a  nook  of  the  adjoining  work-room  of  Swithin,  the 
doctor  meeting  her  as  he  passed  through  it  into  the 
sick  chamber. 

He  was  there  a  torturingly  long  time  ;  but  at  length 
he  came  out  to  the  room  she  waited  in,  and  crossed  it 
on  his  way  downstairs.  She  rose  and  followed  him  to 
the  stairhead. 

*  How  is  he?'  she  anxiously  asked.  'Will  he  get 
over  it  ? ' 

The  doctor,  not  knowing  the  depth  of  her  interest 
in  the  patient,  spoke  with  the  blunt  candour  natural 
towards  a  comparatively  indifferent  inquirer. 

'No,  Lady  Constantine,'  he  replied;  'there's  a 
change  for  the  worse.' 

And  he  retired  down  the  stairs. 

Scarcely  knowing  what  she  did  Lady  Constantine 
ran  back  to  Swithin's  side,  flung  herself  upon  the  bed, 
and  in  a  paroxysm  of  sorrow  kissed  him. 


X 

The  placid  inhabitants  of  the  parish  of  Welland,  in- 
cluding warbling  waggoners,  lone  shepherds,  plough- 
men, the  blacksmith,  the  carpenter,  the  gardener  at 
the  Great  House,  the  steward  and  agent,  the  parson, 
clerk,  and  so  on,  were  hourly  expecting  the  announce- 
ment of  St.  Cleeve's  death.  The  sexton  had  been 
going  to  see  his  brother-in-law,  nine  miles  distant,  but 
promptly  postponed  the  visit  for  a  few  days,  that  there 
might  be  the  regular  professional  hand  present  to  toll 
the  bell  in  a  note  of  due  fulness  and  solemnity ;  an 
attempt  by  a  deputy,  on  a  previous  occasion  of  his 
absence,  having  degenerated  into  a  miserable  stammer- 
ing clang  that  was  a  disgrace  to  the  parish. 

But  Swithin  St.  Cleeve  did  not  decease,  a  fact  of 
which,  indeed,  the  habituated  reader  will  have  been 
well  aware  ever  since  the  rain  came  down  upon  the 
young  man  in  the  ninth  chapter,  and  led  to  his  alarming 
illness.  Though,  for  that  matter,  so  many  maimed 
histories  are  hourly  enacting  themselves  in  this  dun- 
coloured  world  as  to  lend  almost  a  priority  of  interest 
to  narratives  concerning  those 

*  Who  lay  great  bases  for  eternity 
Which  prove  more  short  than  waste  or  ruining.' 

How  it  arose  that  he  did  not  die  was  in  this  wise ; 
and  his  example  affords  another  instance  of  that  reflex 
rule  of  the  vassal  soul  over  the  sovereign  body,  which, 
operating  so  wonderfully  in  elastic  natures,  and  more 
or  less  in  all,  originally  gave  rise  to  the  legend  that 
supremacy  lay  on  the  other  side. 

78 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  evening  of  the  day  after  the  tender,  despairing, 
farewell  kiss  of  Lady  Constantine,  when  he  was  a 
little  less  weak  than  during  her  visit,  he  lay  with  his 
face  to  the  window.  He  lay  alone,  quiet  and  resigned. 
He  had  been  thinking,  sometimes  of  her  and  other 
friends,  but  chiefly  of  his  lost  discovery.  Although 
nearly  unconscious  at  the  time,  he  had  yet  been  aware 
of  that  kiss,  as  the  delicate  flush  which  followed  it 
upon  his  cheek  would  have  told  ;  but  he  had  attached 
little  importance  to  it  as  between  woman  and  man. 
Had  he  been  dying  of  love  instead  of  wet  weather, 
perhaps  the  impulsive  act  of  that  handsome  lady  would 
have  been  seized  on  as  a  proof  that  his  love  was 
returned.  As  it  was  her  kiss  seemed  but  the  evidence 
of  a  naturally  demonstrative  kindliness,  felt  towards 
him  chiefly  because  he  was  believed  to  be  leaving  her 
for  ever. 

The  reds  of  sunset  passed,  and  dusk  drew  on. 
Old  Hannah  came  upstairs  to  pull  down  the  blinds, 
and  as  she  advanced  to  the  window  he  said  to  her,  in 
a  faint  voice,  'Well,  Hannah,  what  news  to-day  .'*' 

*  O,  nothing,  sir,'  Hannah  replied,  looking  out  of 
the  window  with  sad  apathy,  *  only  that  there's  a  comet, 
they  say.' 

'  A  WHAT  ? '  said  the  dying  astronomer,  starting  up 
on  his  elbow. 

*  A  comet — that's  all,  Master  S within,'  repeated 
Hannah,  in  a  lower  voice,  fearing  she  had  done  harm 
in  some  way. 

'  Well,  tell  me,  tell  me ! '  cried  Swithin.  '  Is  it 
Gambart's  ?  Is  it  Charles  the  Fifth's,  or  H alley's,  or 
Faye's,  or  whose  ? ' 

*  Hush ! '  said  she,  thinking  St.  Cleeve  slightly  de- 
lirious again.  *  'Tis  God  A'mighty's,  of  course.  I 
haven't  seed  en  myself;  but  they  say  he's  getting 
bigger  every  night,  and  that  he'll  be  the  biggest  one 
known  for  fifty  years  when  he's  full  growed.  There, 
you  must  not  talk  any  more  now,  or  I'll  go  away.' 

Here  was  an  amazing  event,  little  noise  as  it  had 

79 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

made  in  the  happening.  Of  all  phenomena  that  he 
had  longed  to  witness  during  his  short  astronomical 
career,  those  appertaining  to  comets  had  excited  him 
most.  That  the  magnificent  comet  of  1 8 1 1  would 
not  return  again  for  thirty  centuries  had  been  quite 
a  permanent  regret  with  him.  And  now,  when  the 
bottomless  abyss  of  death  seemed  yawning  beneath  his 
feet,  one  of  these  much-desired  apparitions,  as  large, 
apparently,  as  any  of  its  tribe,  had  chosen  to  show 
itself. 

'  O,  if  I  could  but  live  to  see  that  comet  through 
my  equatorial ! '  he  cried. 

Compared  with  comets,  variable  stars,  which  he 
had  hitherto  made  his  study,  were,  from  their  remote- 
ness, uninteresting.  They  were  to  the  former  as  the 
celebrities  of  Ujiji  or  Unyamwesi  to  the  celebrities  of 
his  own  country.  Members  of  the  solar  system,  these 
dazzling  and  perplexing  rangers,  the  fascination  of  all 
astronomers,  rendered  themselves  still  more  fascinating 
by  the  sinister  suspicion  attaching  to  them  of  being 
possibly  the  ultimate  destroyers  of  the  human  race. 
In  his  physical  prostration  St.  Cleeve  wept  bitterly 
at  not  being  hale  and  strong  enough  to  welcome  with 
proper  honour  the  present  specimen  of  these  desirable 
visitors. 

The  strenuous  wish  to  live  and  behold  the  new 
phenomenon,  supplanting  the  utter  weariness  of  exist- 
ence that  he  had  heretofore  experienced,  gave  him  a 
new  vitality.  The  crisis  passed  ;  there  was  a  turn  for 
the  better ;  and  after  that  he  rapidly  mended.  The 
comet  had  in  all  probability  saved  his  life.  The  limit- 
less and  complex  wonders  of  the  sky  resumed  their 
old  power  over  his  imagination  ;  the  possibilities  of 
that  unfathomable  blue  ocean  were  endless.  Finer 
feats  than  ever  he  would  perform  were  to  be  achieved 
in  its  investigation.  What  Lady  Constantine  had 
said,  that  for  one  discovery  made  ten  awaited  making, 
was  strikingly  verified  by  the  sudden  appearance  of 
this  splendid  marvel. 

80 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  windows  of  St.  Cleeve's  bedroom  faced  the 
west,  and  nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  that  his  bed 
should  be  so  pulled  round  as  to  give  him  a  view  of 
the  low  sky,  in  which  the  as  yet  minute  tadpole  of  fire 
was  recognizable.  The  mere  sight  of  it  seemed  to 
lend  him  sufficient  resolution  to  complete  his  own  cure 
forthwith.  His  only  fear  now  was  lest,  from  some 
unexpected  cause  or  other,  the  comet  would  vanish 
before  he  could  get  to  the  observatory  on  Rings- Hill 
Speer. 

In  his  fervour  to  begin  observing  he  directed  that 
an  old  telescope,  which  he  had  used  in  his  first  celestial 
attempts,  should  be  tied  at  one  end  to  the  bed-post, 
and  at  the  other  fixed  near  his  eye  as  he  reclined. 
Equipped  only  with  this  rough  improvisation  he  began 
to  take  notes.  Lady  Constantine  was  forgotten,  till 
one  day,  suddenly,  wondering  if  she  knew  of  the 
important  phenomenon,  he  revolved  in  his  mind 
whether  as  a  fellow-student  and  sincere  friend  of  his 
she  ought  not  to  be  sent  for,  and  instructed  in  the  use 
of  the  equatorial. 

But  though  the  image  of  Lady  Constantine,  in  spite 
of  her  kindness  and  unmistakably  warm  heart,  had 
been  obscured  in  his  mind  by  the  heavenly  body,  she 
had  not  so  readily  forgotten  him.  Too  shy  to  repeat 
her  visit  after  so  nearly  betraying  her  secret,  she  yet, 
every  day,  by  the  most  ingenious  and  subtle  means 
that  could  be  devised  by  a  woman  who  feared  for 
herself,  but  could  not  refrain  from  tampering  with 
danger,  ascertained  the  state  of  her  young  friend's 
health.  On  hearing  of  the  turn  in  his  condition  she 
rejoiced  on  his  account,  and  became  yet  more  de- 
spondent on  her  own.  If  he  had  died  she  might  have 
mused  on  him  as  her  dear  departed  saint  without 
much  sin  :  but  his  return  to  life  was  a  delight  that 
bewildered  and  dismayed. 

One  evening  a  little  later  on  he  was  sitting  at  his 
bedroom  window  as  usual,  waiting  for  a  sufficient  de- 
cline  of  light  to  reveal  the   comet's  form,  when  he 

8i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

beheld,  crossing  the  field  contiguous  to  the  house,  a 
figure  which  he  knew  to  be  hers.  He  thought  she 
must  be  coming  to  see  him  on  the  great  comet  ques- 
tion, to  discuss  which  with  so  delightfiil  and  kind  a 
comrade  was  an  expectation  fiill  of  pleasure.  Hence  he 
keenly  observed  her  approach,  till  something  happened 
that  surprised  him. 

When,  at  the  descent  of  the  hill,  she  had  reached 
the  stile  that  admitted  to  Mrs.  Martin  s  garden,  Lady 
Constantine  stood  quite  still  for  a  minute  or  more,  her 
gaze  bent  on  the  ground.  Instead  of  coming  on  to 
the  house  she  went  heavily  and  slowly  back,  almost  as 
if  in  pain  ;  and  then  at  length,  quickening  her  pace, 
she  was  soon  out  of  sight.  She  appeared  in  the  path 
no  more  that  day. 


XI 

Why  had  Lady  Constantine  stopped  and  turned  ? 

A  misgiving  had  taken  sudden  possession  of  her. 
Her  true  sentiment  towards  St.  Cleeve  was  too  re- 
cognizable by  herself  to  be  tolerated. 

That  she  had  a  legitimate  interest  in  him  as  a 
young  astronomer  was  true ;  that  her  sympathy  on 
account  of  his  severe  illness  had  been  natural  and 
commendable  was  also  true.  But  the  superfluous  feel- 
ing was  what  filled  her  with  trepidation. 

Superfluities  have  been  defined  as  things  you 
cannot  do  without,  and  this  particular  emotion,  that 
came  not  within  her  rightful  measure,  was  in  danger  of 
becoming  just  such  a  superfluity  with  her.  In  short, 
she  felt  there  and  then  that  to  see  St.  Cleeve  again 
would  be  an  impropriety  ;  and  by  a  violent  effort  she 
retreated  from  his  precincts,  as  he  had  observed. 

She  resolved  to  ennoble  her  conduct  from  that 
moment  of  her  life  onwards.     She  would  exercise  kind 

j  patronage  towards  Swithin  without  once  indulging 
herself  with  his  company.  Inexpressibly  dear  to  her 
deserted  heart  he  was  becoming,  but  for  the  future  he 

^should  at  least  be  hidden  from  her  eyes.  To  speak 
plainly,  it  was  growing  a  serious  question  whether,  if 
he  were  not  hidden  from  her  eyes,  she  would  not  soon 
be  plunging  across  the  ragged  boundary  which  divides 
the  permissible  from  the  forbidden. 

By  the  time  that  she  had  drawn  near  home  the 
sun  was  going  down.     The   heavy,   many-chevroned 

i   church,  now  subdued  by  violet  shadow  except  where 

!  83 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

its  upper  courses  caught  the  western  stroke  of  flame- 
colour,  stood  close  to  her  grounds,  as  in  many  other 
parishes,  though  the  village  of  which  it  formerly  was 
the  nucleus  had  become  quite  depopulated  :  its  cottages 
had  been  demolished  to  enlarge  the  park,  leaving  the 
old  building  to  stand  there  alone,  like  a  standard  with- 
out an  army. 

It  was  Friday  night,  and  she  heard  the  organist 
practising  voluntaries  within.  The  hour,  the  notes, 
the  even-song  of  the  birds,  and  her  own  previous 
emotions,  combined  to  influence  her  devotionally. 
She  entered,  turning  to  the  right  and  passing  under  the 
chancel  arch,  where  she  sat  down  and  viewed  the  whole 
empty  length,  east  and  west.  The  semi- Norman  arches 
with  their  multitudinous  notchings,  were  still  visible 
by  the  light  from  the  tower  window,  but  the  lower 
portion  of  the  building  was  in  obscurity,  except  where 
the  feeble  glimmer  from  the  candle  of  the  organist 
spread  a  glow-worm  radiance  around.  The  player, 
who  was  Miss  Tabitha  Lark,  continued  without  inter- 
mission to  produce  her  wandering  sounds,  unconscious 
of  any  one's  presence  except  that  of  the  youthful 
blower  at  her  side. 

The  rays  from  the  organist's  candle  illuminated  but 
one  small  fragment  of  the  chancel  outside  the  precincts 
of  the  instrument,  and  that  was  the  portion  of  the 
eastern  wall  whereon  the  ten  commandments  were 
inscribed.  The  gilt  letters  shone  sternly  into  Lady 
Constantine's  eyes  ;  and  she,  being  as  impressionable 
as  a  turtle-dove,  watched  a  certain  one  of  those  com- 
mandments on  the  second  table,  till  its  thunder  broke 
her  spirit  with  blank  contrition. 

She  knelt  down,  and  did  her  utmost  to  eradicate 
those  impulses  towards  St.  Cleeve  which  were  incon- 
sistent with  her  position  as  the  wife  of  an  absent  man, 
though  not  unnatural  in  her  as  his  victim. 

She  knelt  till  she  seemed  scarcely  to  belong  to  the 
time  she  lived  in,  which  lost  the  magnitude  that  the 
nearness  of  its  perspective  lent  it  on  ordinary  occa- 

84 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

sions  and  took  its  actual  rank  in  the  long  line  of 
other  centuries.  Having  once  got  out  of  herself, 
seen  herself  from  afar  off,  she  was  calmer,  and 
went  on  to  register  a  magnanimous  vow.  She  would 
look  about  for  some  maiden  fit  and  likely  to  make  St. 
Cleeve  happy  ;  and  this  girl  she  would  endow  with 
what  money  she  could  afford,  that  the  natural  result  of 
their  apposition  should  do  him  no  worldly  harm.  The 
interest  of  her,  Lady  Constantine's,  life  should  be  in 
watching  the  development  of  love  between  Swithin 
and  the  ideal  maiden. 

The  very  painfulness  of  the  scheme  to  her  suscep- 
tible heart  made  it  pleasing  to  her  conscience ;  and 
she  wondered  that  she  had  not  before  this  time 
thought  of  a  stratagem  which  united  the  possibility 
of  benefiting  the  astronomer  with  the  advantage  of 
guarding  against  peril  to  both  Swithin  and  herself. 
By  providing  for  him  a  suitable  helpmate  she  would 
preclude  the  dangerous  awakening  in  him  of  senti- 
ments reciprocrating  her  own. 

Arrived  at  a  point  of  exquisite  misery  through  this 
heroic  intention.  Lady  Constantine's  tears  moistened 
the  books  upon  which  her  forehead  was  bowed.  And 
as  she  heard  her  feverish  heart  throb  against  the  desk, 
she  firmly  believed  the  wearing  impulses  of  that  heart 
would  put  an  end  to  her  sad  life,  and  momentarily 
recalled  the  banished  image  of  St.  Cleeve  to  apostro- 
phise him  in  thoughts  that  paraphrased  the  quaint  lines 
of  Heine's  Lieb'  Liebchen  : — 

*  Dear  my  love,  press  thy  hand  to  my  breast,  and  tell 
If  thou  tracest  the  knocks  in  that  narrow  cell ; 
A  carpenter  dwells  there ;  cunning  is  he, 
And  slyly  he's  shaping  a  coffin  for  me ! ' 

Lady  Constantine  was  disturbed  by  a  break  in  the 
organist's  meandering  practice,  and  raising  her  head 
she  saw  a  person  standing  by  the  player.  It  was  Mr. 
Torkingham,  and  what  he  said  was  distinctly  audible. 
He  was  inquiring  for  herself. 

85 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  I  thought  I  saw  Lady  Constantine  walk  this  way/ 
he  rejoined  to  Tabitha's  negative.  *  I  am  very  anxious 
indeed  to  meet  with  her.' 

She  went  forward.  *  I  am  here,'  she  said.  '  Don't 
stop  playing,  Miss  Lark.  What  is  it,  Mr.  Tor  king- 
ham  ? ' 

Tabitha  thereupon  resumed  her  playing,  and  Mr. 
Torkingham  joined  Lady  Constantine. 

'  I  have  some  very  serious  intelligence  to  break  to 
your  ladyship,'  he  said.  *  But — I  will  not  interrupt 
you  here.'  (He  had  seen  her  rise  from  her  knees  to 
come  to  him.)  '  I  will  call  at  the  House  the  first 
moment  you  can  receive  me  after  reaching  home.' 

*  No,  tell  me  here,'  she  said,  seating  herself. 

He  came  close,  and  placed  his  hand  on  the  poppy- 
head  of  the  seat. 

'  I  have  received  a  communication,'  he  resumed 
haltingly,  *  in  which  I  am  requested  to  prepare  you  for 
the  contents  of  a  letter  that  you  will  receive  to-morrow 
morning.' 

*  I  am  quite  ready.' 

'  The  subject  is  briefly  this.  Lady  Constantine : 
that  you  have  been  a  widow  for  more  than  eighteen 
months.' 

'  Dead ! ' 

'  Yes.  Sir  Blount  was  attacked  by  dysentery  and 
malarious  fever,  on  the  banks  of  the  Zouga  in  South 
Africa,  so  long  ago  as  last  October  twelvemonths,  and 
it  carried  him  off.  Of  the  three  men  who  were  with 
him,  two  succumbed  to  the  same  illness,  a  hundred 
miles  further  on  ;  while  the  third,  retracing  his  steps 
into  a  healthier  district,  remained  there  with  a  native 
tribe,  and  took  no  pains  to  make  the  circumstances 
known.  It  seems  to  be  only  by  the  mere  accident 
of  his  having  told  some  third  party  that  we  know 
of  the  matter  now.  This  is  all  I  can  tell  you  at 
present.* 

She  was  greatly  agitated  for  a  few  moments  ;  and 
the  Table  of  the  Law  opposite,  which  now  seemed  to 

86 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

appertain  to  another  dispensation,  glistened  indistinctly 
upon  a  vision  still  obscured  by  the  old  tears. 

•  Shall  I  conduct  you  home  ?  '  asked  the  parson. 

*  No  thank  you,'  said  Lady  Constantine.     *  I  would 
rather  go  alone.* 


XII 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  Mr.  Torkingham, 
who  occasionally  dropped  in  to  see  St.  Cleeve,  called 
again  as  usual ;  after  duly  remarking  on  the  state  of 
the  weather,  congratulating  him  on  his  sure  though 
slow  improvement,  and  answering  his  inquiries  about 
the  comet,  he  said,  '  You  have  heard,  I  suppose,  of 
what  has  happened  to  Lady  Constantine  ? ' 

'  No !     Nothing  serious  ?  ' 

*  Yes,  it  is  serious.'  The  parson  informed  him  of 
the  death  of  Sir  Blount,  and  of  the  accidents  which 
had  hindered  all  knowledge  of  the  same, — accidents 
favoured  by  the  estrangement  of  the  pair  and  the 
cessation  of  correspondence  between  them  for  some 
time. 

His  listener  received  the  news  with  the  concern  of 
a  friend.  Lady  Constantine's  aspect  in  his  eyes  depend- 
ing but  little  on  her  condition  matrimonially. 

'  There  was  no  attempt  to  bring  him  home  when 
he  died  ? ' 

'  O  no.  The  climate  necessitates  instant  burial. 
We  shall  have  more  particulars  in  a  day  or  two, 
doubtless.' 

'  Poor  Lady  Constantine, — so  good  and  so  sensitive 
as  she  is !  I  suppose  she  is  quite  prostrated  by  the 
bad  news.' 

'  Well,  she  is  rather  serious, — not  prostrated.  The 
household  is  going  into  mourning.' 

'  Ah,  no,  she  would  not  be  quite  prostrated,'  mur- 
mured S within,  recollecting  himself     '  He  was  unkind 

88 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

to  her  in  many  ways.     Do  you  think  she  will  go  away 
from  Welland  ? ' 

That  the  vicar  could  not  tell.  But  he  feared  that 
Sir  Blount's  affairs  had  been  in  a  seriously  involved 
condition,  which  might  necessitate  many  and  unex- 
pected changes. 

Time  showed  that  Mr.  Torkinghams  surmises 
were  correct. 

During  the  long  weeks  of  early  summer,  through 
which  the  young  man  still  lay  imprisoned,  if  not  within 
his  own  chamber,  within  the  limits  of  the  house  and 
garden,  news  reached  him  that  Sir  Blount's  mis- 
management and  eccentric  behaviour  were  resulting 
in  serious  consequences  to  Lady  Constantine  ;  nothing 
less,  indeed,  than  her  almost  complete  impoverishment. 
His  personalty  was  swallowed  up  in  paying  his  debts, 
and  the  Welland  estate  was  so  heavily  charged  with 
annuities  to  his  distant  relatives  that  only  a  mere 
pittance  was  left  for  her.  She  was  reducing  the 
establishment  to  the  narrowest  compass  compatible 
with  decent  gentility.  The  horses  were  sold  one  by 
one  ;  the  carriages  also  ;  the  greater  part  of  the  house 
was  shut  up,  and  she  resided  in  the  smallest  rooms. 
All  that  was  allowed  to  remain  of  her  former  contingent 
of  male  servants  were  an  odd  man  and  a  boy.  Instead 
of  using  a  carriage  she  now  drove  about  in  a  donkey- 
chair,  the  said  boy  walking  in  front  to  clear  the  way 
and  keep  the  animal  in  motion  ;  while  she  wore,  so 
his  informants  reported,  not  an  ordinary  widow's  cap 
or  bonnet,  but  something  even  plainer,  the  black 
material  being  drawn  tightly  round  her  face,  giving 
Ij  her  features  a  small,  demure,  devout  cast,  very  pleasing 
^to  the  eye. 

*  Now,  what's  the  most  curious  thing  in  this,  Mr. 
San  Cleeve,'  said  Sammy  Blore,  who,  in  calling  to 
inquire  after  Swithin's  health,  had  imparted  some  of 
the  above  particulars,  'is  that  my  lady  seems  not  to 
mind  being  a  poor  woman  half  so  much  as  we  do  at 
seeing  her  so.     'Tis  a  wonderful  gift,  Mr.  San  Cleeve, 

89 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

wonderful,  to  be  able  to  guide  yerself,  and  not  let 
loose  yer  soul  in  blasting  at  such  a  misfortune.  I 
should  go  and  drink  neat  regular,  as  soon  as  I  had 
swallered  my  breakfast,  till  my  innerds  was  burnt  out 
like  a'  old  copper,  if  it  had  happened  to  me  ;  but  my 
lady's  plan  is  best.  Though  I  only  guess  how  one 
feels  in  such  losses,  to  be  sure,  for  I  never  had  nothing 
to  lose.' 

Meanwhile  the  observatory  was  not  forgotten  ;  nor 
that  visitant  of  singular  shape  and  habits  which  had 
appeared  in  the  sky  from  no  one  knew  whence,  trailing 
its  luminous  streamer,  and  proceeding  on  its  way  in  the 
face  of  a  wondering  world,  till  it  should  choose  to 
vanish  as  suddenly  as  it  had  come. 

When,  about  a  month  after  the  above  dialogue 
took  place,  Swithin  was  allowed  to  go  about  as  usual, 
his  first  pilgrimage  was  to  the  Rings- Hill  Speer.  Here 
he  studied  at  leisure  what  he  had  come  to  see. 

On  his  return  to  the  homestead,  just  after  sunset,  ; 
he  found  his  grandmother  and  Hannah  in  a  state  of  ; 
great  concern.  The  former  was  looking  out  for  him 
against  the  evening  light,  her  face  showing  itself  worn 
and  rutted,  like  an  old  highway,  by  the  passing  of 
many  days.  Her  information  was  that  in  his  absence 
Lady  Constantine  had  called  in  her  driving-chair,  to 
inquire  for  him.  Her  ladyship  had  wished  to  observe 
the  comet  through  the  great  telescope,  but  had  found 
the  door  locked  when  she  applied  at  the  tower.  Would 
he  kindly  leave  the  door  unfastened  to-morrow,  she 
had  asked,  that  she  might  be  able  to  go  to  the  column 
on  the  following  evening  for  the  same  purpose  ?  She 
did  not  require  him  to  attend. 

During  the  next  day  he  sent  Hannah  with  the  key  ( 
to  Welland  House,  not  caring  to  leave  the  tower  open. 
As  evening  advanced  and  the  comet  grew  distinct,  he 
doubted  if  Lady  Constantine  could  handle  the  tele- 
scope alone  with  any  pleasure  or  profit  to  herself 
Unable,  as  a  devotee  to  science,  to  rest  under  this 
misgiving,  he  crossed  the  field  in  the  furrow  that  he 

90 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

had  used  ever  since  the  corn  was  sown,  and  entered 
the  plantation.  His  unpractised  mind  never  once 
guessed  that  her  stipulations  against  his  coming  might 
have  existed  along  with  a  perverse  hope  that  he  would 
come. 

On  ascending  he  found  her  already  there.  She  sat 
in  the  observing-chair  :  the  warm  light  from  the  west, 
which  flowed  in  through  the  opening  of  the  dome, 
brightened  her  face,  and  her  face  only,  her  robes  of 
sable  lawn  rendering  the  remainder  of  her  figure  almost 
invisible. 

*  You  have  come  ! '  she  said  with  shy  pleasure.  *  I 
did  not  require  you.  But  never  mind.'  She  extended 
her  hand  cordially  to  him. 

Before  speaking  he  looked  at  her  with  a  great  new 
interest  in  his  eye.  It  was  the  first  time  that  he  had 
seen  her  thus,  and  she  was  altered  in  more  than  dress. 
A  soberly-sweet  expression  sat  on  her  face.  It  was  of 
a  rare  and  peculiar  shade — something  that  he  had 
never  seen  before  in  woman. 

*  Have  you  nothing  to  say  ? '  she  continued.  *  Your 
footsteps  were  audible  to  me  from  the  very  bottom, 
and  I  knew  they  were  yours.  You  look  almost 
restored.' 

'  I  am  almost  restored,'  he  replied,  respectfully 
pressing  her  hand.  *  A  reason  for  living  arose,  and  I 
lived.' 

*  What  reason  ?  '  she  inquired,  with  a  rapid  blush. 
He  pointed  to  the  rocket-like  object  in  the  western 

sky. 

*  O,  you  mean  the  comet.  Well,  you  will  never 
make  a  courtier !  You  know,  of  course,  what  has 
happened  to  me ;  that  I  have  no  longer  a  husband — 
have  had  none  for  a  year  and  a  half.  Have  you  also 
heard  that  I  am  now  quite  a  poor  woman  ?  Tell  me 
what  you  think  of  it.' 

'  I  have  thought  very  little  of  it  since  I  heard  that 
you  seemed  to  mind  poverty  but  little.  There  is  even 
this  good  in  it,  that  I  may  now  be  able  to  show  you 

91 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

some  little  kindness  for  all  those  you  have  done  me, 
my  dear  lady.* 

*  Unless  for  economy's  sake,  I  go  and  live  abroad, 
— at  Dinan,  Versailles,  or  Boulogne.' 

Swithin,  who  had  never  thought  of  such  a  contin- 
gency, was  earnest  in  his  regrets  ;  without,  however, 
showing  more  than  a  sincere  friend's  disappointment. 

'  I  did  not  say  it  was  absolutely  necessary,'  she 
continued.  *  I  have,  in  fact,  grown  so  homely  and 
home-loving,  I  am  so  interested  in  the  place  and  the 
people  here,  that,  in  spite  of  advice,  I  have  almost 
determined  not  to  let  the  house ;  but  to  continue  the 
less  business-like  but  pleasanter  alternative  of  living 
humbly  in  a  part  of  it,  and  shutting  up  the  rest.' 

*  Your  love  of  astronomy  is  getting  as  strong  as 
mine  ! '  he  said  ardently.  '  You  could  not  tear  yourself 
away  from  the  observatory ! ' 

'  You  might  have  supposed  me  capable  of  a  little 
human  feeling  as  well  as  scientific,  in  connection  with 
the  observatory.' 

'  Dear  Lady  Constantine,  by  admitting  that  your 
astronomer  has  also  a  part  of  your  interest ' 

*  Ah,  you  did  not  find  it  out  without  my  telling ! ' 
she  said,  with  a  playfulness  which  was  scarcely  playful, 
a  warmer  accession  of  colour  being  visible  in  her  face. 
*  I  diminish  myself  in  your  esteem  by  reminding  you.' 

'  You  might  do  anything  in  this  world  without 
diminishing  yourself  in  my  esteem,  after  the  goodness 
you  have  shown.  And  more  than  that,  no  misrepre- 
sentation, no  rumour,  no  damning  appearance  whatever, 
would  ever  shake  my  loyalty  to  you.' 

*  But  you  put  a  very  matter-of-fact  construction  on 
my  motives  sometimes.  You  see  me  in  such  a  hard 
light  that  I  have  to  drop  hints  in  quite  a  manoeuvring 
manner  to  let  you  know  I  am  as  sympathetic  as  other 
people.  I  sometimes  think  you  would  rather  have  me 
die  than  have  your  equatorial  stolen.  Confess  that 
your  admiration  for  me  was  based  on  my  house  and 
position  in  the  county !     Now  I  am  shorn  of  all  that 

92 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

glory,  such  as  it  was,  and  am  a  widow,  and  am  poorer 
than  my  tenants,  and  can  no  longer  buy  telescopes, 
and  am  unable,  from  the  narrowness  of  my  circum- 
stances, to  mix  in  circles  that  people  formerly  said 
I  adorned,  I  fear  I  have  lost  the  little  hold  I  once  had 
over  you.' 

*  You  are  as  unjust  now  as  you  have  been  generous 
hitherto,'  said  St.  Cleeve,  with  tears  in  his  eyes  at  the 
gentle  banter  of  the  lady,  which  he,  poor  innocent,  read 
as  her  real  opinions.  Seizing  her  hand  he  continued, 
in  tones  between  reproach  and  anger,  *  I  swear  to  you 
that  I  have  but  two  devotions,  two  thoughts,  two 
hopes,  and  two  blessings  in  this  world,  and  that  one  of 
them  is  yourself ! ' 

*  And  the  other  ? ' 

*  The  pursuit  of  astronomy.* 

*  And  astronomy  stands  first.' 

*  I  have  never  ordinated  two  such  dissimilar  ideas ! 
And  why  should  you  deplore  your  altered  circum- 
stances, my  dearest  lady  ?  Your  widowhood,  if  I  may 
take  the  liberty  to  speak  on  such  a  subject,  is,  though 
I  suppose  a  sadness,  not  perhaps  an  unmixed  evil. 
For  though  your  pecuniary  troubles  have  been  dis- 
covered to  the  world  and  yourself  by  it,  your  happiness 
in  marriage  was,  as  you  have  confided  to  me,  not  great ; 
and  you  are  now  left  free  as  a  bird  to  follow  your  own 
hobbies.' 

*  I  wonder  you  recognize  that.' 

*  But  perhaps,'  he  added,  with  a  sigh  of  regret, 
'you  will  again  fall  a  prey  to  some  man,  some  uninter- 
esting country  squire   or  other,   and    be    lost    to  the 

-scientific  world  after  all.' 

'  If  I  fall  a  prey  to  any  man,  it  will  not  be  to  a 
country  squire.  But  don't  go  on  with  this,  for  heaven's 
sake !     You  may  think  what  you  like  in  silence.' 

'We  are  forgetting  the  comet,'  said  St.  Cleeve. 
He  turned,  and  set  the  instrument  in  order  for  obser- 
vation, and  wheeled  round  the  dome. 

While  she  was  looking  at  the  nucleus  of  the  fiery 

93 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

plume,  that  now  filled  so  large  a  space  of  the  sky  as 
completely  to  dominate  it,  Swithin  dropped  his  gaze 
upon  the  field,  and  beheld  in  the  dying  light  a  number 
of  labourers  crossing  directly  towards  the  column. 

*  What  do  you  see  ? '  Lady  Constantine  asked,  with- 
out ceasing  to  observe  the  comet. 

*  Some  of  the  work-folk  are  coming  this  way.  I 
know  what  they  are  coming  for, — I  promised  to  let 
them  look  at  the  comet  through  the  glass.' 

'They  must  not  come  up  here,'  she  said  decisively. 

'They  shall  await  your  time.' 

'  I  have  a  special  reason  for  wishing  them  not  to 
see  me  here.  If  you  ask  why,  I  can  tell  you.  They 
mistakenly  suspect  my  interest  to  be  less  in  astronomy 
than  in  the  astronomer,  and  they  must  have  no  show- 
ing for  such  a  wild  notion.  What  can  you  do  to  keep 
them  out  ? ' 

'  I'll  lock  the  door,*  said  Swithin.  '  They  will  then 
think  I  am  away.  He  ran  down  the  staircase,  and 
she  could  hear  him  hastily  turning  the  key.  Lady 
Constantine  sighed. 

'  What  weakness,  what  weakness  ! '  she  said  to  her- 
self. '  That  envied  power  of  self-control,  where  is  it  ? 
That  power  of  concealment  which  a  woman  should  have 
— where  ?  To  run  such  risks,  to  come  here  alone, — O. 
if  it  were  known !     But  I  was  always  so, — always !  * 

She  jumped  up,  and  followed  him  downstairs. 


XIII 

He  was  standing  immediately  inside  the  door  at  the 
bottom,  though  it  was  so  dark  she  could  hardly  see 
him.  The  villagers  were  audibly  talking  just  without. 
'  He's  sure  to  come,  rathe  or  late,'  resounded  up 
the  spiral  in  the  vocal  note  of  Hezzy  Biles.  *  He 
wouldn't  let  such  a  fine  show  as  the  comet  makes 
to-night  go  by  without  peeping  at  it, — not  Master 
Cleeve !  Did  ye  bring  along  the  flagon.  Hay  moss  ? 
Then  we'll  sit  down  inside  his  little  board-house  here, 
and  wait.  He'll  come  afore  bed- time.  Why,  his  spy- 
glass will  stretch  out  that  there  comet  as  long  as 
Welland  Lane ! ' 

*  I'd  as  soon  miss  the  great  peep-show  that  comes 
every  year  to  Greenhill  Fair  as  a  sight  of  such  a 
immortal  spectacle  as  this ! '  said  Amos  Fry. 

*'*  Immortal  spectacle,"  —  where  did  ye  get  that 
choice  mossel,  Haymoss  ? '  inquired  Sammy  Blore. 
*Well,  well,  the  Lord  save  good  scholars — and  take 
just  a  bit  o'  care  of  them  that  hain't !  As  'tis  so  dark  in 
the  hut,  suppose  we  draw  out  the  bench  into  the  front 
here,  souls  ? ' 

The  bench  was  accordingly  brought  forth,  and  in 
order  to  have  a  back  to  lean  against  they  placed  it 
exactly  across  the  door  into  the  spiral  staircase. 

'Now,  have  ye  got  any  backy?  If  ye  haven't,  I 
have,'  continued  Sammy  Blore.  A  striking  of  matches 
followed,  and  the  speaker  concluded  comfortably, 
*  Now,  we  shall  do  very  well.' 

*  And  what  do  this  comet  mean  ?  *  asked  Haymoss. 

95 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  That  some  great  tumult  is  going  to  happen,  or  that 
we  shall  die  of  a  famine  ?  ' 

*  Famine — no ! '  said  Nat  Chapman.  *  That  only- 
touches  such  as  we,  and  the  Lord  only  concerns  himself 
with  born  gentlemen.  It  isn't  to  be  supposed  that  a 
strange  fiery  lantern  like  that  would  be  lighted  up  for 
folks  with  ten  or  a  dozen  shillings  a  week  and  their 
gristing,  and  a  load  o'  thorn  faggots  when  we  can  get 
em.  If  'tis  a  token  that  he's  getting  hot  about  the 
ways  of  anybody  in  this  parish,  'tis  about  my  Lady 
Constantlne's,  since  she  Is  the  only  one  of  a  figure 
worth  such  a  hint' 

*  As  for  her  income, — that  she  s  now  lost. 

*  Ah,  well ;   I  don't  take  in  all  I  hear.' 

Lady  Constantine  drew  close  to  St.  Cleeve  s  side, 
and  whispered,  trembling,  '  Do  you  think  they  will 
wait  long  ?     Or  can  we  get  out  ?  ' 

Swithin  felt  the  awkwardness  of  the  situation. 
The  men  had  placed  the  bench  close  to  the  door, 
which,  owing  to  the  stairs  within,  opened  outwards  ; 
so  that  at  the  first  push  by  the  pair  inside  to  release 
themselves  the  bench  must  have  gone  over,  and  sent 
the  smokers  sprawling  on  their  faces.  He  whispered 
to  her  to  ascend  the  column  and  wait  till  he  came. 

*  And  have  the  dead  man  left  her  nothing  ?  Hey  ? 
And  have  he  carried  his  Inheritance  Into's  grave  .f* 
And  will  his  skeleton  lie  warm  on  account  o't  ?  Hee- 
hee ! '  said  Hay  moss. 

' 'Tis    all    swallered   up,'   observed    Hezzy    Biles. 

*  His  goings-on  made  her  miserable  till  'a  died,  and  If 
I  were  the  woman  I'd  have  my  randys  now.  He 
ought  to  have  bequeathed  to  her  our  young  gent,  Mr. 
St.  Cleeve,  as  some  sort  of  amends.  I'd  up  and  marry 
en,  if  I  were  she  ;  since  her  downfall  has  brought  'em 
quite  near  together,  and  made  him  as  good  as  she  In 
rank,  as  he  was  afore  in  bone  and  breeding.' 

*  D'ye  think  she  will  ? '  asked  Sammy  Blore.  '  Or 
IS  she  meaning  to  enter  upon  a  virgin  life  for  the  rest 
of  her  days  ?  * 

96 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  I  don't  want  to  be  unreverent  to  her  ladyship  ;  bu^ 
I  really  don't  think  she  is  meaning  any  such  waste  o<* 
a  comely  carcase.      I  say  she's  rather  meaning  to  com- 
mit flat   matrimony  wi'   somebody  or  other,  and  one 
young  gentleman  in  particular.' 

*  But  the  young  man  himself.'^ ' 

*  Planned,  cut  out,  and  finished  for  the  delight  of 
*ooman ! ' 

'  Yet  he  must  be  willing.' 

'  That  would  soon  come.  If  they  get  up  this  tower 
ruling  plannards  together  much  longer,  their  plannards 
will  soon  rule  them  together,  in  my  way  o'  thinking. 
If  she've  a  disposition  towards  the  knot,  she  can  soon 
teach  him.' 

'  True,  true,  and  lawfully.  What  before  mid  ha' 
been  a  wrong  desire  is  now  a  holy  wish ! ' 

The  scales  fell  from  Swithin  St.  Cleeve's  eyes  as  he 
heard  the  words  of  his  neighbours.  How  suddenly  the 
truth  dawned  upon  him  ;  how  it  bewildered  him,  till  he 
scarcely  knew  where  he  was  ;  how  he  recalled  the  full 
force  of  what  he  had  only  half  apprehended  at  earlier 
times,  particularly  of  that  sweet  kiss  she  had  impressed 
on  his  lips  when  she  supposed  him  dying, — these  vivid 
realizations  are  difficult  to  tell  in  slow  verbiage.  He 
could  remain  there  no  longer,  and  with  an  electrified 
heart  he  retreated  up  the  spiral. 

He  found  Lady  Constantine  half  way  to  the  top, 
standing  by  a  loop-hole ;  and  when  she  spoke  he 
discovered  that  she  was  almost  in  tears.  '  Are  they 
gone  ? '  she  asked. 

'  I  fear  they  will  not  go  yet,'  he  replied,  with  a 
nervous  fluctuation  of  manner  that  had  never  before 
appeared  in  his  bearing  towards  her. 

'  What  shall  I  do  .'^ '  she  asked.  '  I  ought  not  to  be 
here ;  nobody  knows  that  I  am  out  of  the  house.  O, 
this  is  a  mistake !     I  must  go  home  somehow.' 

*  Did  you  hear  what  they  were  saying  ?  ' 

'No,'  said  she.  'What  is  the  matter?  Surely 
vou  are  disturbed  ?     What  did  they  say  ? ' 

97 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  It  would  be  the  exaggeration  of  frankness  in  me 
to  tell  you.' 

*  Is  it  what  a  woman  ought  not  to  be  made 
acquainted  with  ? ' 

*  It  is,  in  this  case.  It  is  so  new  and  so  indescrib- 
able an  idea  to  me  —  that '  —  he  leant  against  the 
concave  wall,  quite  tremulous  with  strange  incipient 
sentiments. 

'  What  sort  of  an  idea  ?  '  she  asked  gently. 

*  It  is — an  awakening.  In  thinking  of  the  heaven 
above,  I  did  not  perceive — the ' 

'  Earth  beneath  ? ' 

*  The  better  heaven  beneath.  Pray,  dear  Lady 
Constantine,  give  me  your  hand  for  a  moment.' 

She  seemed  startled,  and  the  hand  was  not  given. 
'  I  am  so  anxious  to  get  home,'  she  repeated.     *  I 
did  not  mean  to  stay  here  more  than  five  minutes ! ' 

*  I  fear  I  am  much  to  blame  for  this  accident,'  he 
said.  '  I  ought  not  to  have  intruded  here.  But  don't 
grieve !  I  will  arrange  for  your  escape,  somehow. 
Be  good  enough  to  follow  me  down.' 

They  redescended,  and,  whispering  to  Lady  Con- 
stantine to  remain  a  few  stairs  behind,  he  began  to 
rattle  and  unlock  the  door. 

The  men  precipitately  removed  their  bench,  and 
Swithin  stepped  out,  the  light  of  the  summer  night 
being  still  enough  to  enable  them  to  distinguish  him. 

'  Well,  Hezeklah,  and  Samuel,  and  Nat,  how  are 
you  ?  '  he  said  boldly. 

*  Well,  sir,  'tis  much  as  before  wi'  me/  replied  Nat. 
*  One  hour  a  week  wi'  God  A'mighty  and  the  rest  with 
the  devil,  as  a  chap  may  say.  And  really,  now  yer 
poor  father's  gone,  I'd  as  lief  that  that  Sunday  hour 
should  pass  like  the  rest ;  for  Pa'son  Tarkenham  do 
tease  a  feller's  conscience  that  much,  that  church  is  no 
hollerday  at  all  to  the  limbs,  as  it  was  in  yer  reverent 
father's  time !  But  we've  been  waiting  here,  Mr.  San 
Cleeve,  supposing  ye  had  not  come.' 

'  I  have  been  staying  at  the  top,  and  fastened  the 

98 


4 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

door  not  to  be  disturbed.  Now  I  am  sorry  to  dis- 
appoint you,  but  I  have  another  engagement  this 
evening,  so  that  it  would  be  inconvenient  to  admit 
you.  To-morrow  evening,  or  any  evening  but  this,  I 
will  show  you  the  comet  and  any  stars  you  like.' 

They  readily  agreed  to  come  the  next  night,  and 
prepared  to  depart.  But  what  with  the  flagon,  and  the 
pipes,  and  the  final  observations,  getting  away  was  a 
matter  of  time.  Meanwhile  a  cloud,  which  nobody 
had  noticed,  arose  from  the  north  overhead,  and  large 
drops  of  rain  began  to  fall  so  rapidly  that  the  conclave 
entered  the  hut  till  it  should  be  over.  St.  Cleeve 
strolled  off  under  the  firs. 

The  next  moment  there  was  a  rustling  through 
the  trees  at  another  point,  and  a  man  and  woman 
appeared.  The  woman  took  shelter  under  a  tree,  and 
the  man,  bearing  wraps  and  umbrellas,  came  forward. 

*  My  lady's  man  and  maid,'  said  Sammy. 

*  Is  her  ladyship  here  ? '  asked  the  man. 

'  No.  I  reckon  her  ladyship  keeps  more  kissable 
company,'  replied  Nat  Chapman. 

'  Pack  o'  stuff! '  said  Blore. 

'  Not  here  ?  Well,  to  be  sure !  We  can't  find  her 
anywhere  in  the  wide  house!  I've  been  sent  to  look 
for  her  with  these  overclothes  and  umbrella.  I've 
suffered  horse-flesh  traipsing  up  and  down,  and  can't 
find  her  nowhere.  Lord,  Lord,  where  can  she  be,  and 
two  months'  wages  owing  to  me  ! ' 

'  Why  so  anxious,  Anthony  Green,  as  I  think  yer 
name  is  shaped  ?  You  be  not  a  married  man  ?  '  said 
Hezzy. 

*  'Tis  what  they  call  me,  neighbours,  whether  or  no.* 
'  But  surely  you  was  a  bachelor  chap  by  late,  afore 

her  ladyship  got  rid  of  the  regular  servants  and  took 
ye?' 

*  I  were  ;  but  that's  past !  * 

'  And  how  came  ye  to  bow  yer  head  to  't,  Anthony  ? 
'Tis  what  you  never  was  inclined  to.  You  was  by  no 
means  a  doting  man  in  early  time.* 

99 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Well,  had  I  been  left  to  my  own  free  choice,  'tis 
as  like  as  not  I  should  ha'  shunned  forming  such 
kindred,  being  at  that  time  a  poor  day  man,  or  weekly, 
at  my  highest  luck  in  hiring.  But  'tis  wearing  work 
to  hold  out  against  the  custom  of  the  country,  and  the 
woman  wanting  'ee  to  stand  by  her  and  save  her  from 
unborn  shame  ;  so,  since  common  usage  would  have  it, 
I  let  myself  be  carried  away  by  opinion,  and  took  her. 
Though  she's  never  once  thanked  me  for  covering  her 
confusion,  that's  true !  But,  'tis  the  way  of  the  lost 
when  safe,  and  I  don't  complain.  Here  she  is,  just 
behind,  under  the  tree,  if  you'd  like  to  see  her.'^ — a 
very  nice  homespun  woman  to  look  at,  too,  for  all  her 
few  weather-stains.  .  .  .  Well,  well,  where  can  my 
lady  be  ?  And  I  the  trusty  jineral  man — 'tis  more 
than  my  place  is  worth  to  lose  her!  Come  forward, 
Gloriana,  and  talk  nicely  to  the  work-folk.' 

While  the  woman  was  talking  the  rain  increased  so 
much  that  they  all  retreated  further  into  the  hut.  St. 
Cleeve,  who  had  impatiently  stood  a  little  way  off,  now 
saw  his  opportunity,  and,  putting  in  his  head,  said, 
*  The  rain  beats  in  ;  you  had  better  shut  the  door.  I 
must  ascend  and  close  up  the  dome.' 

Slamming  the  door  upon  them  without  ceremony 
he  quickly  went  to  Lady  Constantine  in  the  column, 
and  telling  her  they  could  now  pass  the  villagers 
unseen  he  gave  her  his  arm.  Thus  he  conducted  her 
across  the  front  of  the  hut  into  the  shadows  of  the  firs. 

*  I  will  run  to  the  house  and  harness  your  little 
carriage  myself,'  he  said  tenderly.  '  I  will  then  take 
you  home  in  it.' 

'  No ;  please  don't  leave  me  alone  under  these 
dismal  trees ! '  Neither  would  she  hear  of  his  getting 
her  any  wraps  ;  and,  opening  her  little  sunshade  to 
keep  the  rain  out  of  her  face,  she  walked  with  him 
across  the  insulating  field,  after  which  the  trees  of  the 
park  afforded  her  a  sufficient  shelter  to  reach  home 
without  much  damage. 

Swithin  was  too  greatly  affected  by  what  he  had 

100 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

overheard  to  speak  much  to  her  on  the  way,  and  pro- 
tected her  as  if  she  had  been  a  shorn  lamb.  After  a 
farewell  which  had  more  meaning  than  sound  in  it,  he 
hastened  back  to  Rings- Hill  Speer.  The  work-folk 
were  still  in  the  hut,  and,  by  dint  of  friendly  converse 
and  a  sip  at  the  flagon,  had  so  cheered  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Anthony  Green  that  they  neither  thought  nor  cared 
what  had  become  of  Lady  Constantine. 

St.  Cleeve's  sudden  sense  of  new  relations  with 
that  sweet  patroness  had  taken  away  in  one  half-hour 
his  natural  ingenuousness.  Henceforth  he  could  act  a 
part. 

*  I  have  made  all  secure  at  the  top,'  he  said,  putting 
his  head  into  the  hut.  *  I  am  now  going  home. 
When  the  rain  stops,  lock  this  door  and  hi  ing  the  key 
to  my  house.'  '  ' 


XIV 

The  laboured  resistance  which  Lady  Constantine*s 
judgment  had  offered  to  her  rebellious  affection  ere 
she  learnt  that  she  was  a  widow,  now  passed  into  a 
bashfulness  that  rendered  her  almost  as  unstable  of 
tpood  as  before.  But  she  was  one  of  that  mettle — 
fervid,  cordial,  and  spontaneous  —  who  had  not  the 
heart. to  spoil  a  passion;  and  her  affairs  having  gone 
to  rack  and  ruin  by  no  fault  of  her  own  she  was  left 
to  a  painfully  narrowed  existence  which  lent  even 
something  of  rationality  to  her  attachment.  Thus 
it  was  that  her  tender  and  unambitious  soul  found 
comfort  in  her  reverses. 

As  for  St.  Cleeve,  the  tardiness  of  his  awakening 
was  the  natural  result  of  inexperience  combined  with 
devotion  to  a  hobby.  But,  like  a  spring  bud  hard 
in  bursting,  the  delay  was  compensated  by  after  speed. 
At  once  breathlessly  recognizing  in  this  fellow- watcher 
of  the  skies  a  woman  who  loved  him,  in  addition  to 
the  patroness  and  friend,  he  truly  translated  the  nearly 
forgotten  kiss  she  had  given  him  in  her  moment  of 
despair. 

Lady  Constantine,  in  being  nearly  ten  years 
his  senior,  was  an  object  even  better  calculated  to 
nourish  a  youth's  first  passion  than  a  girl  of  his  own 
age,  superiority  of  experience  and  ripeness  of  emotion 
exercising  the  same  peculiar  fascination  over  him  as 
over  other  young  men  in  their  first  ventures  in 
this  kind. 

The  alchemy  which  thus  transmuted  an  abstracted 

I02 


I 


I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

astronomer  into  an  eager  lover — and,  must  it  be  said  ? 
spoilt  a  promising  young  physicist  to  produce  a 
common -place  inamorato — may  be  almost  described 
as  working  its  change  in  one  short  night.  Next 
morning  he  was  so  fascinated  with  the  novel  sensation 
that  he  wanted  to  rush  off  at  once  to  Lady  Constantine, 
and  say,  *  I  love  you  true ! '  in  the  intensest  tones  of 
his  mental  condition,  to  register  his  assertion  in  her 
heart  before  any  of  those  accidents  which  *  creep  in 
*twixt  vows,  and  change  decrees  of  kings,'  should 
occur  to  hinder  him.  But  his  embarrassment  at 
standing  in  a  new  position  towards  her  would  not 
allow  him  to  present  himself  at  her  door  in  any  such 
hurry.  He  w^aited  on  as  helplessly  as  a  girl  for  a 
chance  of  encountering  her. 

But  though  she  had  tacitly  agreed  to  see  him  on 
any  reasonable  occasion.  Lady  Constantine  did  not 
put  herself  in  his  way.  She  even  kept  herself  out  of 
his  way.  Now  that  for  the  first  time  he  had  learnt 
to  feel  a  strong  impatience  for  their  meeting,  her 
shyness  for  the  first  time  led  her  to  delay  it.  But 
given  two  people  living  in  one  parish,  who  long  from 
the  depths  of  their  hearts  to  be  in  each  others 
company,  what  resolves  of  modesty,  policy,  pride,  or 
apprehension  will  keep  them  for  any  length  of 
time  apart  ? 

One  afternoon  he  was  watching  the  sun  from  his 
tower,  half  echoing  the  Greek  astronomer's  wish  that 
he  might  be  set  close  to  that  luminary  for  the  wonder 
of  beholding  it  in  all  its  glory,  under  the  slight  penalty 
of  being  consumed  the  next  instant.  He  glanced 
^  over  the  high-road  between  the  field  and  the  park 
'^  (which  sublunary  features  now  too  often  distracted 
his  attention  from  his  telescope),  and  saw  her  passing 
along  that  way. 

She  was  seated  in  the  donkey-carriage  that  had 
now  taken  the  place  of  her  landau,  the  white  animal 
looking  no  larger  than  a  cat  at  that  distance.  The 
buttoned  boy,   who  represented  both   coachman  and 

103 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

footman,  walked  alongside  the  animal's  head  at  a 
solemn  pace  ;  the  dog  stalked  at  the  distance  of  a 
yard  behind  the  vehicle,  without  indulging  in  a  single 
gambol ;  and  the  whole  turn-out  resembled  in  dignity 
a  dwarfed  state  procession. 

Here  was  an  opportunity  but  for  two  obstructions : 
the  boy,  who  might  be  curious  ;  and  the  dog,  who 
might  bark  and  attract  the  attention  of  any  labourers 
or  servants  near.  Yet  the  risk  was  to  be  run,  and, 
knowing  that  she  would  soon  turn  up  a  certain  shady 
lane  at  right  angles  to  the  road  she  had  followed,  he 
ran  hastily  down  the  staircase,  crossed  the  barley 
(which  now  covered  the  field)  by  the  path  not  more 
than  a  foot  wide  that  he  had  trodden  for  himself,  and 
got  into  the  lane  at  the  other  end.  By  slowly  walking 
along  in  the  direction  of  the  turnpike-road  he  soon 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  coming.  To  his 
surprise  he  also  had  the  satisfaction  of  perceiving 
that  neither  boy  nor  dog  was  in  her  company. 

They  both  blushed  as  they  approached,  she  from 
sex,  he  from  inexperience.  One  thing  she  seemed 
to  see  in  a  moment,  that  in  the  interval  of  her  absence 
St.  Cleeve  had  become  a  man  ;  and  as  he  greeted 
her  with  this  new  and  maturer  light  in  his  eyes  she 
could  not  hide  her  embarrassment,  or  meet  their  fire. 

'  I  have  just  sent  my  page  across  to  the  column 
with  your  book  on  Cometary  Nuclei,'  she  said  softly ; 
'that  you  might  not  have  to  come  to  the  house  for 
it.     I  did  not  know  I  should  meet  you  here.' 

*  Didn't  you  wish  me  to  come  to  the  house  for  it  ? ' 

*  I  did  not,  frankly.     You  know  why,  do  you  not  ? ' 
'Yes,    I   know.     Well,   my  longing  is  at  rest.     I 

have  met  you  again.  But  are  you  unwell,  that  you 
drive  out  in  this  chair  ?  * 

'  No  ;  I  walked  out  this  morning,  and  am  a  little 
tired.' 

*  I  have  been  looking  for  you  night  and  day. 
Why  do  you  turn  your  face  aside  ?  You  used  not  to 
be  so.'      Her  hand  rested  on   the  side  of  the   chair, 

104 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  he  took  it.      '  Do  you  know  that  since  we  last 
met,  I  have  been  thinking  of  you — daring  to  think  of 
you — as  I  never  thought  of  you  before  ?  ' 
'Yes,  I  know  it.' 

*  How  did  you  know  ?  ' 

*  I  saw  it  in  your  face  when  you  came  up.* 

'Well,  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  think  of  you  so. 
And  yet,  had  I  not  learned  to,  I  should  never  fully 
have  felt  how  gentle  and  sweet  you  are.  Only  think 
of  my  loss  if  I  had  lived  and  died  without  seeing  more 
in  you  than  in  astronomy !  But  I  shall  never  leave 
off  doing  so  now.  When  you  talk  I  shall  love  your 
understanding ;  when  you  are  silent  I  shall  love  your 
face.  But  how  shall  I  know  that  you  care  to  be  so 
much  to  me  ?  ' 

Her  manner  was  disturbed  as  she  recognized  the 
impending  self-surrender,  which  she  knew  not  how  to 
resist,  and  was  not  altogether  at  ease  in  welcoming. 

*  O,  Lady  Constantine,'  he  continued,  bending 
over  her,  'give  me  some  proof  more  than  mere 
seeming  and  inference,  which  are  all  I  have  at  present, 
that  you  don't  think  this  I  tell  you  of  presumption  in 
me !  I  have  been  unable  to  do  anything  since  I  last 
saw  you  for  pondering  uncertainly  on  this.  Some 
proof,  or  little  sign,  that  we  are  one  in  heart ! ' 

A  blush  settled  again  on  her  face  ;  and  half  in 
effort,  half  in  spontaneity,  she  put  her  finger  on  her 
cheek.      He  almost  devotionally  kissed  the  spot. 

'  Does  that  suffice  ? '  she  asked,  scarcely  giving 
her  words  voice. 

'  Yes  ;   I  am  convinced.' 

'  Then  that  must  be  the  end.  Let  me  drive  on  ; 
■the  boy  will  be  back  again  soon.'  She  spoke  hastily 
and  looked  askance  to  hide  the  heat  of  her  cheek. 

'  No  ;  the  tower  door  is  open,  and  he  will  go  to 
the  top,  and  waste  his  time  in  looking  through  the 
telescope.' 

'  Then  you  should  rush  back,  for  he  will  do  some 
damage.' 

105 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  No ;  he  may  do  what  he  likes,  tinker  and  spoil 
the  instrument,  destroy  my  papers, — anything,  so  that 
he  will  stay  there  and  leave  us  alone.' 

She  glanced  up  with  pained  pleasure. 

*  You  never  used  to  feel  like  that ! '  There  was 
keen  self-reproach  in  her  voice.  '  You  were  once  so 
devoted  to  your  science  that  the  thought  of  an  intruder 
into  your  temple  would  have  driven  you  wild.  Now 
you  don't  care ;  and  who  is  to  blame  ?  Ah,  not  you, 
not  you ! ' 

The  animal  ambled  on  with  her,  and  he,  leaning  on 
the  side  of  the  little  vehicle,  kept  her  company. 

'Well,  don't  let  us  think  of  that,'  he  said.  *  I  offer 
myself  and  all  my  energies,  frankly  and  entirely,  to 
you,  my  dear,  dear  lady,  whose  I  shall  be  always ! 
But  my  words  in  telling  you  this  will  only  injure  my 
meaning  instead  of  emphasize  it.  In  expressing,  even 
to  myself,  my  thoughts  of  you,  I  find  that  I  fall  into 
phrases  which,  as  a  critic,  I  should  hitherto  have 
heartily  despised  for  their  commonness.  What's  the  use 
of  saying,  for  instance,  as  I  have  just  said,  that  I  give 
myself  entirely  to  you,  and  shall  be  yours  always, — 
that  you  have  my  devotion,  my  highest  homage  ? 
Those  words  have  been  used  so  frequently  in  a 
flippant  manner  that  honest  use  of  them  is  not  dis- 
tinguishable from  the  unreal.'  He  turned  to  her,  and 
added,  smiling,  *  Your  eyes  are  to  be  my  stars  for  the 
future.' 

*Yes,  I  know  it, — I  know  it,  and  all  you  would 
say !  I  dreaded  even  while  I  hoped  for  this,  my  dear 
young  friend,'  she  replied,  her  eyes  being  full  of  tears. 
*  I  am  injuring  you ;  who  knows  that  I  am  not  ruining 
your  future, — I  who  ought  to  know  better  ?  Nothing 
can  come  of  this, — nothing  must, — and  I  am  only 
wasting  your  time.  Why  have  I  drawn  you  off  from 
a  grand  celestial  study  to  study  poor  lonely  me  ?  Say 
you  will  never  despise  me,  when  you  get  older,  for  this 
episode  in  our  lives.  But  you  will, — I  know  you  will ! 
All  men  do,  when  they  have  been  attracted  in  their 

io6 


4 

It 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

unsuspecting  youth,  as  I  have  attracted  you.      I  ought 
to  have  kept  my  resolve.' 
'  What  was  that  ?  * 

*  To  bear  anything  rather  than  draw  you  from  your 
high  purpose ;  to  be  like  the  noble  citizen  of  old 
Greece,  who,  attending  a  sacrifice,  let  himself  be  burnt 
to  the  bone  by  a  coal  that  jumped  into  his  sleeve 
rather  than  disturb  the  sacred  ceremony.' 

'  But  can  I  not  study  and  love  both  ? ' 

'  I  hope  so, — I   earnestly  hope  so.      But  you'll  be 

the  first  if  you  do,  and  I  am  the  responsible  one  if  you 

do  not.' 

'  You  speak  as   if  I   were  quite  a  child,  and  you 

immensely  older.     Why,  how  old  do  you  think  I  am  ? 

I  am  twenty.' 

*  You  seem  younger.  Well,  that's  so  much  the 
better.  Twenty  sounds  strong  and  firm.  How  old  do 
you  think  I  am  ?  ' 

*  I  have  never  thought  of  considering.'  He 
innocently  turned  to  scrutinize  her  face.  She  winced 
a  little.  But  the  instinct  was  premature.  Time  had 
taken  no  liberties  with  her  features  as  yet ;  nor  had 
trouble  very  roughly  handled  her. 

'  I  will  tell  you,'  she  replied,  speaking  almost  with 
physical  pain,  yet  as  if  determination  should  carry  her 
through.  *  I  am  nine-and-twenty — nearly — I  mean  a 
little  more,  a  few  months — a  year — more.  Am  I  not 
a  fearful  deal  older  than  you  ? ' 

'At  first  it  seems  a  great  deal,'  he  answered, 
musing.  '  But  it  doesn't  seem  much  when  one  gets 
used  to  it.' 

*  Nonsense ! '  she  exclaimed.     *  It  zs  a,  good  deal.' 

*  Very  well,  then,  sweetest  Lady  Constantine,  let  it 
be,'  he  said  gently. 

'  You  should  not  let  it  be !  A  polite  man  would 
have  flatly  contradicted  me.  .  .  .  O  I  am  ashamed  of 
this ! '  she  added  a  moment  after,  with  a  subdued,  sad 
look  upon  the  ground.  '  I  am  speaking  by  the  card 
of  the  outer  world,  which  I  have  left  behind  utterly ; 

107 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


no  such  lip  service  is  known  in  your  sphere.  I  care 
nothing  for  those  things,  really ;  but  that  which  is 
called  the  Eve  in  us  will  out  sometimes.  Well,  we 
will  forget  that  now,  as  we  must,  at  no  very  distant 
date,  forget  all  the  rest  of  this.' 

He  walked  beside  her  thoughtfully  awhile,  with  his 
eyes  also  bent  on  the  road.  *  Why  must  we  forget  it 
all  ? '  he  inquired.  j 

*  It  is  only  an  interlude.'  I 

'An  interlude!  It  is  no  interlude  to  me.  O  how 
can  you  talk  so  lightly  of  this,  Lady  Constantine  ? 
And  yet,  if  I  were  to  go  away  from  here,  I  might, 
perhaps,  soon  reduce  it  to  an  interlude!  Yes,'  he 
resumed  impulsively,  *  I  will  go  away.  Love  dies,  and 
it  is  just  as  well  to  strangle  it  in  its  birth  ;  it  can  only 
die  once !     I'll  go.' 

'  No,  no ! '  she  said,  looking  up  apprehensively. 
*I  misled  you.  It  is  no  interlude  to  me,  —  it  is 
tragical.  I  only  meant  that  from  a  worldly  point 
of  view  it  is  an  interlude,  which  we  should  try  to 
forget.  But  the  world  is  not  all.  You  will  not  go 
away  ? ' 

But  he  continued  drearily,  '  Yes,  yes,  I  see  it  all ; 
you  have  enlightened  me.  It  will  be  hurting  your 
prospects  even  more  than  mine,  if  I  stay.  Now  Sir 
Blount  is  dead,  you  are  free  again, — may  marry  where 
you  will,  but  for  this  fancy  of  ours.  I'll  leave  Welland 
before  harm  comes  of  my  staying.' 

'  Don't  decide  to  do  a  thing  so  rash ! '  she  begged, 
seizing  his  hand  and  looking  miserable  at  the  effect  of 
her  words.  *  I  shall  have  nobody  left  in  the  world  to 
care  for!  And  now  I  have  given  you  the  great 
telescope,  and  lent  you  the  column,  it  would  be  un- 
grateful to  go  away  !  I  was  wrong  ;  believe  me  that  I 
did  not  mean  that  it  was  a  mere  interlude  to  me.  O  if 
you  only  knew  how  very,  very  far  it  is  from  that !  It 
is  my  doubt  of  the  result  to  you  that  makes  me  speak 
so  slightingly.' 

They    were    now    approaching    cross  -  roads,    and 

io8 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

casually  looking  up  they  beheld,  thirty  or  forty  yards 
beyond  the  crossing,  Mr.  Torkingham,  who  was 
leaning  over  a  gate,  his  back  being  towards  them.  As 
yet  he  had  not  recognized  their  approach. 

The  master-passion  had  already  supplanted  St. 
Cleeve's  natural  ingenuousness  by  subtlety. 

'  Would  it  be  well  for  us  to  meet  Mr.  Torkingham 
just  now  ?  '  he  began. 

*  Certainly  not,'  she  said  hastily,  and  pulling  the 
rein  she  instantly  drove  down  the  right-hand  road. 
*  I  cannot  meet  anybody  ! '  she  murmured.  *  Would 
it  not  be  better  that  you  leave  me  now  ? — not  for 
my  pleasure,  but  that  there  may  arise  no  distressing 
tales  about  us  before  we  know — how  to  act  in  this 
— this ' — (she  smiled  faintly  at  him)  *  heartaching 
extremity ! ' 

They  were  passing  under  a  huge  oak-tree  whose 
limbs,  irregular  with  shoulders,  knuckles,  and  elbows, 
stretched  horizontally  over  the  lane  in  a  manner 
recalling  Absalom's  death.  A  slight  rustling  was 
perceptible  amid  the  leafage  as  they  drew  out  from 
beneath  it,  and  turning  up  his  eyes  S within  saw  that 
very  buttoned  page  w^hose  advent  they  had  dreaded 
looking  down  with  interest  at  them  from  a  perch  not 
much  higher  than  a  yard  above  their  heads.  He  had 
a  bunch  of  oak-apples  in  one  hand,  plainly  the  object 
of  his  climb,  and  was  furtively  watching  Lady 
Constantine  with  the  hope  that  she  might  not  see  him. 
But  that  she  had  already  done,  though  she  did  not 
reveal  it,  and,  fearing  that  the  latter  words  of  their 
conversation  had  been  overheard,  they  spoke  not  till 
they  had  passed  the  next  turning. 

She  stretched  out  her  hand  to  his.  *  This  must 
not  go  on,'  she  said  imploringly.  *  My  anxiety  as  to 
what  may  be  said  of  such  methods  of  meeting  makes 
me  too  unhappy.  See  what  has  happened  ! '  She 
could  not  help  smiling.  '  Out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the 
fire !  After  meanly  turning  to  avoid  the  parson  we 
have  rushed  into  a  worse  publicity.      It  is  too  humiliating 

109 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

to  have  to  avoid  people,  and  lowers  both  you  and  me. 
The  only  remedy  is  not  to  meet.'  . 

'Very  well,'   said   Swithin,   with  a   sigh.     *  bo    it 

shall  be.'  i    i  u 

And  with  smiles  that  might  more  truly  have  been 

tears  they  parted  there  and  then. 


I 


I 


XV 

The  summer  passed  away,  and  autumn  with  its 
infinite  suite  of  tints  came  creeping  on.  Darker  grew 
the  evenings,  tearfuller  the  moonlights,  and  heavier 
the  dews.  Meanwhile  the  comet  had  waxed  to  its 
largest  dimensions, — so  large  that  not  only  the  nucleus 
but  a  portion  of  the  tail  had  been  visible  in  broad 
day.  It  was  now  on  the  wane,  though  every  night  the 
equatorial  still  afforded  an  opportunity  of  observing 
the  singular  object  which  would  soon  disappear  alto- 
gether from  the  heavens  for  perhaps  thousands  of 
years. 

But  the  astronomer  of  the  Rings- Hill  Speer 
was  no  longer  a  match  for  his  celestial  materials. 
Scientifically  he  had  become  but  a  dim  vapour  of 
himself;  the  lover  had  come  into  him  like  an  armed 
man,  and  cast  out  the  student,  and  his  intellectual 
situation  was  growing  a  life-and-death  matter. 

The  resolve  of  the  pair  had  been  so  far  kept :  they 
had  not  seen  each  other  in  private  for  three  months. 
But  on  one  day  in  October  he  ventured  to  write  a  note 
to  her : — 

*  I  can  do  nothing !  I  have  ceased  to  study,  ceased  to 
observe.  The  equatorial  is  useless  to  me.  This  longing  I 
have  for  you  absorbs  my  life,  and  outweighs  my  intentions. 
The  power  to  labour  in  the  grandest  of  fields  has  left  me.  I 
struggle  against  the  weakness  till  I  think  of  the  cause,  and 
then  I  bless  her.  But  the  very  desperation  of  my  mind  has 
suggested  a  remedy  ;  and  this  I  would  inform  you  of  at  once. 

'  Can  you  come  to  me,  since  I  must  not  come  to  you  ?  I 
will  wait  to-morrow  night  at  the  edge  of  the  plantation  by 

1 1 1 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER  t 

which  you  would  enter  to  the  column.     I  will  not  detain  you ; 
my  plan  can  be  told  in  ten  words.'  '^ 

The  night  after  posting  this  missive  to  her  he 
waited  at  the  spot  mentioned. 

It  was  a  melancholy  evening  for  going  abroad.  A 
blusterous  wind  had  risen  during  the  day,  and  still 
continued  to  increase.  Yet  he  stood  watchful  in  the 
darkness,  and  was  ultimately  rewarded  by  discerning  a 
shady  muffled  shape  that  embodied  itself  from  the 
field,  accompanied  by  the  scratching  of  silk  over 
stubble.  There  was  no  longer  any  disguise  as  to  the 
nature  of  their  meeting.  It  was  a  lovers'  assignation, 
pure  and  simple  ;  and  boldly  realizing  it  as  such  he 
clasped  her  In  his  arms. 

*  I  cannot  bear  this  any  longer !  '  he  exclaimed. 
*  Three  months  since  I  saw  you  alone !  Only  a 
glimpse  of  you  In  church,  or  a  bow  from  the  distance, 
in  all  that  time !  O  dearest,  what  a  fearful  struggle 
this  keeping  apart  has  been  ! ' 

'  Yet  I  should  have  had  strength  to  persist,  since  it 
seemed  best,'  she  murmured  when  she  could  speak, 
'  had  not  your  words  on  your  condition  so  alarmed  and 
saddened  me.  This  inability  of  yours  to  work,  or 
study,  or  observe, — it  is  terrible !  So  terrible  a  sting 
is  it  to  my  conscience  that  your  hint  about  a  remedy 
has  brought  me  instantly.' 

'  Yet  I  don't  altogether  mind  it,  since  it  is  you,  my 
dear,  who  have  displaced  the  work  ;  and  yet  the  loss 
of  time  nearly  distracts  me,  when  I  have  neither  the 
power  to  work  nor  the  delight  of  your  company.' 

*  But  your  remedy  !  O,  I  cannot  help  guessing  it ! 
Yes  ;   you  are  going  away  ! ' 

*  Let  us  ascend  the  column  ;  we  can  speak  more  at 
ease  there.  Then  I  will  explain  all.  I  would  not  ask 
you  to  climb  so  high  but  the  hut  is  not  yet  furnished.' 

He  entered  the  cabin  at  the  foot,  and  having 
lighted  a  small  lantern,  conducted  her  up  the  hollow 
staircase  to  the  top,  where  he  closed  the  slides  of  the 

I  12 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

dome  to  keep  out  the  wind,  and  placed  the  observing- 
chair  for  her. 

'  I  can  stay  only  five  minutes,'  she  said,  without 
sitting  down.  '  You  said  it  was  important  that  you 
should  see  me,  and  I  have  come.  I  assure  you  it  is  at 
a  great  risk.  If  I  am  seen  here  at  this  time  I  am 
ruined  for  ever.      But  what  would   I   not  do  for  you  ? 

0  Swithin,  your  remedy — is  it  to  go  away  ?     There  is 
no  other  ;  and  yet  I  dread  that  like  death  ! ' 

'  I  can  tell  you  in  a  moment,  but  I  must  begin  at 
the  beginning.  All  this  ruinous  idleness  and  distrac- 
tion is  caused  by  the  misery  of  our  not  being  able  to 
meet  with  freedom.  The  fear  that  something  may 
snatch  you  from  me  keeps  me  in  a  state  of  perpetual 
apprehension.' 

'  It  is  too  true  also  of  me  !  I  dread  that  some 
accident  may  happen,  and  waste  my  days  in  meeting 
the  trouble  half-way.' 

'  So  our  lives  go  on,  and  our  labours  stand  still. 
Now  for  the  remedy.  Dear  Lady  Constantine,  allow 
me  to  marry  you.' 

She  started,  and  the  wind  w^ithout  shook  the  build- 
ing, sending  up  a  yet  intenser  moan  from  the  firs. 

*  I  mean,  marry  you  quite  privately.  Let  it  make 
no  difference  whatever  to  our  outward  lives  for  years, 
for  I  know  that  in  my  present  position  you  could  not 
possibly  acknowledge  me  as  husband  publicly.  But 
by  marrying  at  once  we  secure  the  certainty  that  we 
cannot  be  divided  by  accident,  coaxing,  or  artifice ; 
and,  at  ease  on  that  point,  I  shall  embrace  my  studies 
with  the  old  vigour,  and  you  yours.' 

Lady  Constantine  was  so  agitated  at  the  unexpected 
boldness  of  such  a  proposal  from  one  hitherto  so  boyish 
and  deferential  that  she  sank  into  the  observing-chair, 
her  intention  to  remain  for  only  a  few  minutes  being 
quite  forgotten. 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.      '  No,  no, — 

1  dare  not ! '  she  whispered. 

'  But  is  there  a  single  thing  else  left   to  do  ? '   he 

113 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

pleaded,  kneeling  down  beside  her,  less  in  supplication 
than  in  abandonment.     '  What  else  can  we  do  ? ' 

*  Wait  till  you  are  famous.' 

*  But  I  cannot  be  famous  unless  I  strive,  and  this 
distracting  condition  prevents  all  striving ! '  .■ 

*  Could  you  not  strive  on  if  I — gave  you  a  promise,  I 
a  solemn  promise,   to  be  yours  when  your  name  is 
fairly  well  known  ? ' 

St.  Cleeve  breathed  heavily.  '  It  will  be  a  long, 
weary  time,'  he  said.  *  And  even  with  your  promise 
I  shall  work  but  half-heartedly.  Every  hour  of  study 
will  be  interrupted  with  "  Suppose  this  or  this  hap- 
pens "  ;  '*  Suppose  somebody  persuades  her  to  break 
her  promise  "  ;  worse  still,  **  Suppose  some  rival  maligns 
me,  and  so  seduces  her  away."  No,  Lady  Constantine, 
dearest,  best  as  you  are,  that  element  of  distraction 
would  still  remain,  and  where  that  is,  no  sustained 
energy  is  possible.  Many  erroneous  things  have  been 
written  and  said  by  the  sages,  but  never  did  they  float 
a  greater  fallacy  than  that  love  serves  as  a  spur  to  win 
the  loved  one  by  patient  toil.' 

*  I  cannot  argue  with  you,'  she  said  weakly. 

*  My  only  possible  other  chance  would  lie  in  going 
away,'  he  resumed  after  a  moment's  reflection,  with 
his  eyes  on  the  lantern  flame,  which  waved  and  smoked 
in  the  currents  of  air  that  leaked  into  the  dome  from 
the  fierce  wind-stream  without.  *  If  I  might  take 
away  the  equatorial,  supposing  it  possible  that  I  could 
find  some  suitable  place  for  observing  in  the  southern 
hemisphere, — say,  at  the  Cape, — I  might  be  able  to 
apply  myself  to  serious  work  again,  after  the  lapse  of 
a  little  time.  The  southern  constellations  offer  a  less 
exhausted  field  for  investigation.     I  wonder  if  I  might ! ' 

'You  mean,'  she  answered  uneasily,  'that  you 
might  apply  yourself  to  work  when  your  recollection  of 
me  began  to  fade,  and  my  life  to  become  a  matter  of 
indifference  to  you  ?  .  .  .  Yes,  go !  No, — I  cannot 
bear  it !  The  remedy  is  worse  than  the  disease.  I 
cannot  let  you  go  away  ! ' 

114 


HI 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Then  how  can  you  refuse  the  only  condition  on 
which  I  can  stay,  without  ruin  to  my  purpose  and 
scandal  to  your  name  ?  Dearest,  agree  to  my  proposal, 
as  you  love  both  me  and  yourself! ' 

He  waited,  while  the  fir-trees  rubbed  and  prodded 
the  base  of  the  tower,  and  the  wind  roared  around  and 
shook  it  ;  but  che  could  not  find  words  to  reply. 

'Would  to  God,'  he  burst  out,  *  that  I  might  perish 
here,  like  Winstanley  in  his  lighthouse !  Then  the 
difficulty  would  be  solved  for  you.' 

*  You  are  so  wrong,  so  very  wrong,  in  saying  so ! ' 
she  exclaimed  passionately.  *  You  may  doubt  my 
wisdom,  pity  my  short-sightedness  ;  but  there  is  one 
thing  you  do  know, — that  I  love  you  dearly  ! ' 

*  You  do, — I  know  it ! '  he  said,  softened  in  a 
moment.  *  But  it  seems  such  a  simple  remedy  for  the 
difficulty  that  I  cannot  see  how  you  can  mind  adopting 
it,  if  you  care  so  much  for  me  as  I  do  for  you.' 

*  Should  we  live  .  .  .  just  as  we  are,  exactly,  .  .  . 
supposing  I  agreed  ? '  she  faintly  inquired. 

'  Yes,  that  is  my  idea.' 

*  Quite  privately,  you  say.  How  could — the  mar- 
riage be  quite  private  ? ' 

*  I  would  go  away  to  London  and  get  a  license. 
Then  you  could  come  to  me,  and  return  again  im- 
mediately after  the  ceremony.  I  could  return  at  leisure, 
and  not  a  soul  in  the  world  would  know  what  had 
taken  place.  Think,  dearest,  with  what  a  free  con- 
science you  could  then  assist  me  in  my  efforts  to  plumb 
these  deeps  above  us !  Any  feeling  that  you  may  now 
have  ag^alnst  clandestine  meetinofs  as  such  would  then 
be  removed,  and  our  hearts  would  be  at  rest.' 

There  was  a  certain  scientific  practicability  even  in 
his  love-making,  and  it  here  came  out  excellently. 
But  she  sat  on  with  suspended  breath,  her  heart  wildly 
beating,  while  he  waited  in  open-mouthed  expectation. 
Each  was  swayed  by  the  emotion  within  them,  much 
as  the  candle-flame  was  swayed  by  the  tempest  without. 
It  was  the  most  critical  evening  of  their  lives. 

115 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  pale  rays  of  the  little  lantern  fell  upon  her 
beautiful  face,  snugly  and  neatly  bound  in  by  her 
black  bonnet ;  but  not  a  beam  of  the  lantern  leaked  \ 
out  into  the  night  to  suggest  to  any  watchful  eye  that  • 
human  life  at  its  highest  excitement  was  beating 
within  the  dark  and  isolated  tower ;  for  the  dome 
had  no  windows,  and  every  shutter  that  afforded  an  j 
opening  for  the  telescope  was  closed.  Predilections 
and  misgivings  so  equally  strove  within  her  still 
youthful  breast  that  she  could  not  utter  a  word  ;  her 
intention  wheeled  this  way  and  that  like  the  balance 
of  a  watch.  His  unexpected  proposition  had  brought 
about  the  smartest  encounter  of  inclination  with 
prudence,  of  impulse  with  reserve,  that  she  had  ever 
known. 

Of  all  the  reasons  that  she  had  expected  him  to 
give  for  his  urgent  request  to  see  her  this  evening,  an  I 
offer  of  marriage  was  probably  the  last.  Whether  or  ■ 
not  she  had  ever  amused  herself  with  hypothetical 
fancies  on  such  a  subject, — and  it  was  only  natural 
that  she  should  vaguely  have  done  so, — the  courage 
in  her  protdgd  coolly  to  advance  it,  without  a  hint  from 
herself  that  such  a  proposal  would  be  tolerated,  showed 
her  that  there  was  more  in  his  character  than  she  had 
reckoned  on  :  and  the  discovery  almost  frightened  her. 
The  humour,  attitude,  and  tenor  of  her  attachment 
had  been  of  quite  an  unpremeditated  quality,  un- 
suggestive  of  any  such  audacious  solution  to  their 
distresses  as  this.  ' 

*  I  repeat  my  question,  dearest,'  he  said,  after  her 
long  pause.      '  Shall  it  be  done  ?     Or  shall  I  exile  my- 
self, and  study  as  best  I  can,  in  some  distant  country,     j 
out  of  sight  and  sound  ? '  \ 

*  Are  those  the  only  alternatives  ?  Yes,  yes ;  I  i 
suppose  they  are  ! '  She  waited  yet  another  moment,  1 
bent  over  his  kneeling  figure,  and  kissed  his  forehead.  { 
'  Yes  ;  it  shall  be  done,'  she  whispered.  *  I  will  marry 
you.' 

*  My  angel,  I  am  content ! ' 

n6 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

He  drew  her  yielding  form  to  his  heart,  and  her 
head  sank  upon  his  shoulder,  as  he  pressed  his  two 
lips  continuously  upon  hers.  To  such  had  the  study 
of  celestial  physics  brought  them  in  the  space  of  eight 
months,  one  week,  and  a  few  odd  days. 

'  I  am  weaker  than  you, — far  the  weaker,'  she  went 
on,  her  tears  falling.  *  Rather  than  lose  you  out  of 
my  sight  I  will  marry  without  stipulation  or  condition. 
But — I  put  it  to  your  kindness — grant  me  one  little 
request.' 

He  instantly  assented. 

'  It  is  that,  in  consideration  of  my  peculiar  position 
in  this  county, — O,  you  can't  understand  it ! — you  will 
not  put  an  end  to  the  absolute  secrecy  of  our  relation- 
ship without  my  full  assent.  Also,  that  you  will  never 
come  to  Welland  House  without  first  discussingf  with 
me  the  advisability  of  the  visit,  accepting  my  opinion 
on  the  point.  There,  see  how  a  timid  woman  tries  to 
fence  herself  in  ! ' 

*  My  dear  lady-love,  neither  of  those  two  high- 
handed courses  should  I  have  taken,  even  had  you  not 
stipulated  against  them.  The  very  essence  of  our 
marriage  plan  is  that  those  two  conditions  are  kept. 
I  see  as  well  as  you  do,  even  more  than  you  do,  how 
important  it  is  that  for  the  present — ay,  for  a  long 
time  hence — I  should  still  be  but  the  curate's  lonely 
son,  unattached  to  anybody  or  anything,  with  no 
object  of  interest  but  his  science  ;  and  you  the  recluse 
lady  of  the  manor,  to  whom  he  is  only  an  acquaint- 
ance.' 

'  See  what  deceits  love  sows  in  honest  minds ! ' 

*  It  would  be  a  humiliation  to  you  at  present  that  I 
could  not  bear  if  a  marriage  between  us  were  made 
public ;  an  inconvenience  without  any  compensating 
advantage.' 

'  I  am  so  glad  you  assume  it  without  my  setting  it 
before  you !  Now  I  know  you  are  not  only  good  and 
true,  but  politic  and  trustworthy.' 

*  Well,  then,  here  is  our  covenant.     My  lady  swears 

117 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

to  marry  me ;  I,  in  return  for  such  great  courtesy, 
swear  never  to  compromise  her  by  intruding  at  Welland 
House,  and  to  keep  the  marriage  concealed  till  I  have 
won  a  position  worthy  of  her.' 

'  Or  till  I  request  it  to  be  made  known,'  she  added, 
possibly  foreseeing  a  contingency  which  had  not 
occurred  to  him. 

*  Or  till  you  request  it,'  he  repeated. 

*  It  is  agreed,'  murmured  Lady  Constantine. 


XVI 

After  this  there  only  remained  to  be  settled  between 
them  the  practical  details  of  the  project. 

These  were  that  he  should  leave  home  in  a  couple 
of  days,  and  take  lodgings  either  in  the  distant  city  of 
Bath  or  in  a  convenient  suburb  of  London,  till  a  suffi- 
cient time  should  have  elapsed  to  satisfy  legal  require- 
ments ;  that  on  a  fine  morning  at  the  end  of  this  time 
she  should  hie  away  to  the  same  place,  and  be  met 
at  the  station  by  St.  Cleeve,  armed  with  the  marriage 
license  ;  whence  they  should  at  once  proceed  to  the 
church  fixed  upon  for  the  ceremony  ;  returning  home 
independently  in  the  course  of  the  next  two  or  three 
days. 

While  these  tactics  were  under  discussion  the  two- 
and -thirty  winds  of  heaven  continued,  as  before,  to 
beat  about  the  tower,  though  their  onsets  appeared  to 
be  somewhat  lessening  in  force.  Himself  now  calmed 
and  satisfied,  Swithin,  as  is  the  wont  of  humanity,  took 
serener  views  of  Nature's  crushing  mechanics  without, 
and  said,  '  The  wind  doesn't  seem  disposed  to  put  the 
tragic  period  to  our  hopes  and  fears  that  I  spoke  of  in 
.my  momentary  despair.' 

*  The  disposition  of  the  wind  is  as  vicious  as  ever,' 
she  answered,  looking  into  his  face  with  pausing 
thoughts  on,  perhaps,  other  subjects  than  that  discussed. 
*  It  is  your  mood  of  viewing  it  that  has  changed 
*'  There  is  nothing  either  good  or  bad,  but  thinking 
makes  it  so." ' 

And,  as  if  flatly  to  stultify  Swithin's  assumption,  a 

119 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

circular  hurricane,  exceeding  In  violence  any  that  had 
preceded  it,  seized  hold  upon  Rings- Hill  Speer  at  that 
moment  with  the  determination  of  a  conscious  agent. 
The  first  sensation  of  a  resulting  catastrophe  was  con- 
veyed to  their  intelligence  by  the  flapping  of  the  candle- 
flame  against  the  lantern-glass  ;  then  the  wind,  which 
hitherto  they  had  heard  rather  than  felt,  rubbed  past 
them  like  a  fugitive.  Swithin  beheld  around  and  above 
him,  in  place  of  the  concavity  of  the  dome,  the  open 
heaven,  with  Its  racing  clouds,  remote  horizon,  and 
intermittent  gleam  of  stars.  The  dome  that  had 
covered  the  tower  had  been  whirled  off  bodily ;  and 
they  heard  it  descend  crashing  upon  the  trees. 

Finding  himself  untouched  Swithin  stretched  out 
his  arms  towards  Lady  Constantine,  whose  apparel 
had  been  seized  by  the  spinning  air,  nearly  lifting  her 
off  her  legs.  She,  too,  was  as  yet  unharmed.  Each 
held  the  other  for  a  moment,  when,  fearing  that  some- 
thing further  would  happen,  they  took  shelter  in  the 
staircase. 

'  Dearest,  what  an  escape ! '  he  said,  still  holding 
her. 

'What  is  the  accident?'  she  asked.  'Has  the 
whole  top  really  gone  ?  ' 

'  The  dome  has  been  blown  off  the  roof.' 

As  soon  as  it  was  practicable  he  relit  the  extin- 
guished lantern,  and  they  emerged  again  upon  the 
leads,  where  the  extent  of  the  disaster  became  at  once 
apparent.  Saving  the  absence  of  the  enclosing  hemi- 
sphere all  remained  the  same.  The  dome,  being  con- 
structed of  wood,  was  light  by  comparison  with  the 
rest  of  the  structure,  and  the  wheels  which  allowed  it 
horizontal,  or,  as  Swithin  expressed  it,  azimuth  motion, 
denied  It  a  firm  hold  upon  the  walls  ;  so  that  it  had 
been  lifted  off  them  like  a  cover  from  a  pot.  The 
equatorial  stood  in  the  midst  as  It  had  stood  before. 

Having  executed  its  grotesque  purpose  the  wind 
sank  to  comparative  mildness.  Swithin  took  advan- 
tage of  this  lull  by  covering  up  the  instruments  with 

1 20 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

cloths,  after  which   the  betrothed  couple  prepared  to 
go  downstairs. 

But  the  events  of  the  night  had  not  yet  fully  dis- 
closed themselves.  At  this  moment  there  was  a  sound 
of  footsteps  and  a  knocking  at  the  door  below. 

'  It  can't  be  for  me  ! '  said  Lady  Constantine.  '  I 
retired  to  my  room  before  leaving  the  house,  and  told 
them  on  no  account  to  disturb  me.' 

She  remained  at  the  top  while  Swithin  went  down 
the  spiral.      In  the  gloom  he  beheld  Hannah. 

'  O  Master  Swithin,  can  ye  come  home  !  The  wind 
have  blowed  down  the  only  chimley  that  don't  smoke, 
and  the  pinion-end  with  it ;  and  the  old  ancient  house, 
that  have  been  in  your  family  so  long  as  the  memory 
of  man,  is  naked  to  the  world !  It  is  a  mercy  that 
your  grammer  were  not  killed,  sitting  by  the  hearth, 
poor  old  soul,  and  soon  to  walk  wi'  God, — for  a  's 
getting  wambling  on  her  pins,  Mr.  Swithin,  as  aged 
folks  do.  As  I  say,  'a  was  all  but  murdered  by  the 
elements,  and  doing  no  more  harm  than  the  babes  in 
the  wood,  nor  speaking  one  harmful  word.  And  the 
fire  and  smoke  were  blowed  all  across  house  like 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  ;  and  your  poor  reverent  father's 
features  scorched  to  flakes,  looking  like  the  vilest 
ruffian,  and  the  gilt  frame  spoiled  !  Every  flitch,  every 
eye-piece,  and  every  chine  is  buried  under  the  walling  ; 
and  I  fed  them  pigs  with  my  own  hands,  Master 
Swithin,  little  thinking  they  would  come  to  this  end. 
Do  ye  collect  yourself,  Mr.  Swithin,  and  come  at 
once ! * 

*  I  will, — I  will.  I'll  follow  you  in  a  moment.  Do 
you  hasten  back  again  and  assist.' 

When  Hannah  had  departed  the  young  man  ran 
up  to  Lady  Constantine,  to  whom  he  explained  the 
accident.  After  sympathizing  with  old  Mrs.  Martin 
Lady  Constantine  added,  '  I  thought  something  would 
occur  to  mar  our  scheme  ! ' 

*  I  am  not  quite  sure  of  that  yet.' 

On  a  short  consideration  with  him  she  agreed  to 

121 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

wait  at  the  top  of  the  tower  till  he  could  come  back 
and  inform  her  if  the  accident  were  really  so  serious  as 
to  interfere  with  his  plan  for  departure.  He  then  left 
her,  and  there  she  sat  in  the  dark,  alone,  looking  over 
the  parapet,  and  straining  her  eyes  in  the  direction  of 
the  homestead. 

At  first  all  was  obscurity ;  but  when  he  had  been 
gone  about  ten  minutes  lights  began  to  move  to  and 
fro  in  the  hollow  where  the  house  stood,  and  shouts 
occasionally  mingled  with  the  wind,  which  retained 
some  violence  yet,  playing  over  the  trees  beneath  her 
as  on  the  strings  of  a  lyre.  But  not  a  bough  of  them 
was  visible,  a  cloak  of  blackness  covering  everything 
netherward ;  while  overhead  the  windy  sky  looked 
down  with  a  strange  and  disguised  face,  the  three  or 
four  stars  that  alone  were  visible  being  so  dissociated 
by  clouds  that  she  knew  not  which  they  were.  Under 
any  other  circumstances  Lady  Constantine  might  have 
felt  a  nameless  fear  in  thus  sitting  aloft  on  a  lonely 
column,  with  a  forest  groaning  under  her  feet,  and 
palaeolithic  dead  men  feeding  its  roots  ;  but  the  recent 
passionate  decision  stirred  her  pulses  to  an  intensity 
beside  which  the  ordinary  tremors  of  feminine  exist- 
ence asserted  themselves  in  vain.  The  apocalyptic 
effect  of  the  scene  surrounding  her  was,  indeed,  not 
inharmonious,  and  afforded  an  appropriate  background 
to  her  intentions. 

After  what  seemed  to  her  an  interminable  space  of 
time,  quick  steps  in  the  staircase  became  audible  above 
the  roar  of  the  firs,  and  in  a  few  instants  St.  Cleeve 
again  stood  beside  her. 

The  case  of  the  homestead  was  serious.  Hannah's 
account  had  not  been  exaggerated  in  substance  :  the 
gable  end  of  the  house  was  open  to  the  garden  ;  the 
joists,  left  without  support,  had  dropped,  and  with 
them  the  upper  floor.  By  the  help  of  some  labourers, 
who  lived  near,  and  Lady  Constantine's  man  Anthony, 
who  was  passing  at  the  time,  the  homestead  had  been 
propped  up,  and  protected  for  the  night  by  some  rick- 

l  2  2 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

cloths  ;  but  Swithin  felt  that  it  would  be  selfish  in  the 
highest  degree  to  leave  two  lonely  old  women  to  them- 
selves at  this  juncture.  '  In  short,'  he  concluded  de- 
spondently, *  I  cannot  go  to  stay  in  Bath  or  London 
just  now  ;  perhaps  not  for  another  fortnight ! ' 

'Never  mind,'  she  said.  *A  fortnight  hence  will 
do  as  well.' 

'And  I  have  these  for  you,'  he  continued.  'Your 
man  Green  was  passing  my  grandmother's  on  his  way 
back  from  Warborne,  where  he  had  been,  he  says,  for 
any  letters  that  had  come  for  you  by  the  evening  post. 
As  he  stayed  to  assist  the  other  men  I  told  him  I 
would  go  on  to  your  house  with  the  letters  he  had 
brought.  Of  course  I  did  not  tell  him  I  should  see 
you  here.' 

'Thank  you.  Of  course  not.  Now  I'll  return  at 
once.' 

In  descending  the  column  her  eye  fell  upon  the 
superscription  of  one  of  the  letters,  and  she  opened 
and  glanced  over  it  by  the  lantern  light.  She  seemed 
startled,  and,  musing,  said,  '  The  postponement  of  our 
— intention  must  be,  I  fear,  for  a  long  time.  I  find 
that  after  the  end  of  this  month  I  cannot  leave  home 
safely,  even  for  a  day.'  Perceiving  that  he  was  about 
to  ask  why,  she  added,  '  I  will  not  trouble  you  with 
the  reason  now ;  it  would  only  harass  you.  It  is  only 
a  family  business,  and  cannot  be  helped.' 

'  Then  we  cannot  be  married  till  —  God  knows 
when ! '  said  Swithin  blankly.  '  I  cannot  leave  home 
till  after  the  next  week  or  two ;  you  cannot  leave 
home  unless  within  that  time.  So  what  are  we  to 
do?' 

'  I  do  not  know.* 

'  My  dear,  dear  one,  don't  let  us  be  beaten  like  this ! 
Don't  let  a  well-considered  plan  be  overthrown  by  a 
mere  accident !  Here's  a  remedy.  Do  you  go  and 
stay  the  requisite  time  in  the  parish  we  are  to  be 
married  in,  instead  of  me.  When  my  grandmother  is 
again  well  housed  I  can  come  to  you,  instead  of  you 

123 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

to  me,  as  we  first  said.     Then  it  can  be  done  within 
the  time.* 

Reluctantly,  shyly,  and  yet  with  a  certain  gladness 
of  heart,  she  gave  way  to  his  proposal  that  they  should 
change  places  in  the  programme.  There  was  much 
that  she  did  not  like  in  it,  she  said.  It  seemed  to  her 
as  if  she  were  taking  the  initiative  by  going  and 
attending  to  the  preliminaries.  It  was  the  man's  part 
to  do  that,  in  her  opinion,  and  was  usually  undertaken 
by  him. 

*  But,'  argued  Swithin,  *  there  are  cases  in  which  the 
woman  does  give  the  notices,  and  so  on  ;  that  is  to  say, 
when  the  man  is  absolutely  hindered  from  doing  so ; 
and  ours  is  such  a  case.  The  seeming  is  nothing  ;  I 
know  the  truth,  and  what  does  it  matter  ?  You  do  not 
refuse — retract  your  word  to  be  my  wife,  because,  to 
avoid  a  sickening  delay,  the  formalities  require  you  to 
attend  to  them  in  place  of  me  ?  ' 

She  did  not  refuse,  she  said.  In  short  she  agreed 
to  his  entreaty.  They  had,  in  truth,  gone  so  far  in 
their  dream  of  union  that  there  was  no  drawing  back 
now.  Whichever  of  them  was  forced  by  circumstances 
to  be  the  protagonist  in  the  enterprise,  the  thing  must 
be  done.  Their  intention  to  become  husband  and 
wife,  at  first  halting  and  timorous,  had  accumulated 
momentum  with  the  lapse  of  hours,  till  it  now  bore 
down  every  obstacle  in  its  course. 

'  Since  you  beg  me  to, — since  there  is  no  alternative 
between  my  going  and  a  long  postponement,'  she  said, 
as  they  stood  in  the  dark  porch  of  Welland  House  j 
before  parting, — *  since  I  am  to  go  first,  and  seem  to 
be  the  pioneer  in  this  adventure,  promise  me,  Swithin, 
promise  your  Viviette,  that  in  years  to  come,  when 
perhaps  you  may  not  love  me  so  warmly  as  you  do 
now ' 

*  That  will  never  be.' 
*Well,  hoping  it  will  not,   dear,  but   supposing  it 

should,  promise  me  that  you  will  never  reproach  me  as 
the  one  who  took  the  initiative  when  it  should  have 

124 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

been  yourself,  forgetting  that  it  was  at  your  request ; 
promise  that  you  will  never  say  I  showed  immodest 
readiness  to  do  so,  or  anything  which  may  imply  your 
obliviousness  of  the  fact  that  I  act  in  obedience  to 
necessity  and  your  earnest  prayer.' 

Need  it  be  said  that  he  promised  never  to  reproach 
her  with  that  or  any  other  thing  as  long  as  they  should 
live  ?  The  few  details  of  the  reversed  arrangement 
were  soon  settled,  Bath  being  the  place  finally  decided 
on.  Then,  with  a  warm  audacity  which  events  had 
encouraged,  he  pressed  her  to  his  breast,  and  she 
silently  entered  the  house.  He  returned  to  the  home- 
stead, there  to  attend  to  the  unexpected  duties  of 
repairing  the  havoc  wrought  by  the  gale. 

That  night,  in  the  solitude  of  her  chamber,  Lady 
Constantine  reopened  and  read  the  subjoined  letter — 
one  of  those  handed  to  her  by  St.  Cleeve  : — 

" Street,  Piccadilly, 

October  15,  18 — . 

Dear  Viviette, — ^You  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  I  am 
in  England,  and  that  I  am  again  out  of  harness — unless  you 
should  have  seen  the  latter  in  the  papers.  Rio  Janeiro  may 
do  for  monkeys,  but  it  won't  do  for  me.  Having  resigned 
the  appointment  I  have  returned  here,  as  a  preliminary  step 
to  finding  another  vent  for  my  energies ;  in  other  words, 
another  milch  cow  for  my  sustenance.  I  knew  nothing  what- 
ever of  your  husband's  death  till  two  days  ago ;  so  that 
any  letter  from  you  on  the  subject,  at  the  time  it  became 
known,  must  have  miscarried.  Hypocrisy  at  such  a  moment 
is  worse  than  useless,  and  I  therefore  do  not  condole  with 
you,  particularly  as  the  event,  though  new  to  a  banished  man 
like  me,  occurred  so  long  since.  You  are  better  without  him, 
Viviette,  and  are  now  just  the  limb  for  doing  something  for 
yourself,  notwithstanding  the  threadbare  state  in  which  you 
seem  to  have  been  cast  upon  the  world.  You  are  still  young, 
and,  as  I  imagine  (unless  you  have  vastly  altered  since  I 
beheld  you),  good-looking :  therefore  make  up  your  mind  to 
retrieve  your  position  by  a  match  with  one  of  the  local 
celebrities ;  and  you  would  do  well  to  begin  drawing  neigh- 
bouring covers  at  once.     A  genial  squire,  with  more  weight 

125 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

than  wit,  more  realty  than  weight,  and  more  personalty  than 
realty  (considering  the  circumstances),  would  be  best  for  you. 
You  might  make  a  position  for  us  both  by  some  such  alliance  ; 
for,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  have  had  but  in-and-out  luck  so  far. 
I  shall  be  with  you  in  little  more  than  a  fortnight,  when  we 
will  talk  over  the  matter  seriously,  if  you  don't  object. — Your 
affectionate  brother,  LOUIS. 

It  was  this  allusion  to  her  brother's  coming  visit 
which  had  caught  her  eye  in  the  tower  staircase,  and 
led  to  a  modification  in  the  wedding  arrangement. 

Having  read  the  letter  through  once  Lady  Con- 
stantine  flung  it  aside  with  an  impatient  little  stamp 
that  shook  the  decaying  old  floor  and  casement.  Its 
contents  produced  perturbation,  misgiving,  but  not 
retreat.  The  deep  glow  of  enchantment  shed  by  the 
idea  of  a  private  union  with  her  beautiful  young 
lover  killed  the  pale  light  of  cold  reasoning  from  an 
indifferently  good  relative. 

*0,  no,'  she  murmured,  as  she  sat,  covering  her 
face  with  her  hand.  *  Not  for  wealth  untold  could  I 
give  him  up  now ! ' 

No  argument,  short  of  Apollo  in  person  from  the 
clouds,  would  have  influenced  her.  She  made  her  pre- 
parations for  departure  as  if  nothing  had  intervened. 


XVII 

In  her  days  of  prosperity  Lady  Constantine  had 
often  gone  to  the  city  of  Bath,  either  frivolously,  for 
shopping  purposes,  or  musico-religiously,  to  attend 
choir  festivals  in  the  abbey ;  so  there  was  nothing 
surprising  in  her  reverting  to  an  old  practice.  That 
the  journey  might  appear  to  be  of  a  somewhat  similar 
nature  she  took  with  her  the  servant  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  accompany  her  on  former  occasions, 
though  the  woman,  having  now  left  her  service,  and 
settled  in  the  village  as  the  wife  of  Anthony  Green, 
with  a  young  child  on  her  hands,  could  with  some 
difficulty  leave  home.  Lady  Constantine  overcame 
the  anxious  mother's  scruples  by  providing  that  young 
Green  should  be  well  cared  for ;  and  knowing  that 
she  could  count  upon  this  woman's  fidelity,  if  upon 
anybody's,  in  case  of  an  accident  (for  it  was  chiefly 
Lady  Constantine's  exertions  that  had  made  an  honest 
wife  of  Mrs.  Green),  she  departed  for  a  fortnight's 
absence. 

The  next  day  found  mistress  and  maid  settled  in 
lodgings  in  an  old  plum-coloured  brick  street,  which  a 
(^  hundred  years  ago  could  boast  of  rank  and  fashion 
among  its  residents,  though  now  the  broad  fan-light 
over  each  broad  door  admitted  the  sun  to  the  hall  of 
a  lodging-house  keeper  only.  The  lamp-posts  were 
still  those  that  had  done  duty  with  oil  lights ;  and 
rheumatic  old  coachmen  and  postilions,  that  once  had 
driven  and  ridden  gloriously  from  London  to  Land's 
End,  ornamented  with    their   bent   persons  and   bow 

127 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

legs  the  pavement  in  front  of  the  chief  inns,  in  the 
sorry  hope  of  earning  sixpence  to  keep  body  and  soul 
together. 

*We  are  kept  well  informed  on  the  time  o'  day, 
my  lady,'  said  Mrs.  Green,  as  she  pulled  down  the 
blinds  in  Lady  Constantine's  room  on  the  evening  of 
their  arrival.  *  There's  a  church  exactly  at  the  back 
of  us,  and  I  hear  every  hour  strike.' 

Lady  Constantine  said  she  had  noticed  that  there 
was  a  church  quite  near. 

*  Well,  it  is  better  to  have  that  at  the  back  than 
other  folks'  winders.  And  if  your  ladyship  wants  to 
go  there  it  won't  be  far  to  walk.' 

'That's  what  occurred  to  me,'  said  Lady  Constan- 
tine, *  if  I  should  want  to  go.' 

During  the  ensuing  days  she  felt  to  the  utmost  the 
tediousness  of  waiting  merely  that  time  might  pass. 
Not  a  soul  knew  her  there,  and  she  knew  not  a  soul, 
a  circumstance  which,  while  it  added  to  her  sense 
of  secrecy,  intensified  her  solitude.  Occasionally  she 
went  to  a  shop,  with  Green  as  her  companion.  Though 
there  were  purchases  to  be  made,  they  were  by  no 
means  of  a  pressing  nature,  and  but  poorly  filled  up 
the  vacancies  of  those  strange,  speculative  days, — days 
surrounded  by  a  shade  of  fear,  yet  poetized  by  sweet 
expectation. 

On  the  thirteenth  day  she  told  Green  that  she 
was  going  to  take  a  walk,  and  leaving  the  house  she 
passed  by  the  obscurest  streets  to  the  Abbey.  After 
wandering  about  beneath  the  aisles  till  her  courage 
was  screwed  to  its  highest,  she  went  out  at  the  other 
side,  and,  looking  timidly  round  to  see  if  anybody  . 
followed,  walked  on  till  she  came  to  a  certain  door, 
which  she  reached  just  at  the  moment  when  her  heart 
began  to  sink  to  its  very  lowest,  rendering  all  the 
screwing  up  in  vain. 

Whether  it  was  because  the  month  was  October, 
or  from  any  other  reason,  the  deserted  aspect  of  the 
quarter   in   general    sat   especially   on    this    building. 

128 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Moreover  the  pavement  was  up,  and  heaps  of  stone 
and  gravel  obstructed  the  footway.  Nobody  was 
coming,  nobody  was  going,  in  that  thoroughfare  ;  she 
appeared  to  be  the  single  one  of  the  human  race  bent 
upon  marriage  business,  which  seemed  to  have  been 
unanimously  abandoned  by  all  the  rest  of  the  world  as 
proven  folly.  But  she  thought  of  Swithin,  his  blonde 
hair,  ardent  eyes,  and  eloquent  lips,  and  was  carried 
onward  by  the  very  reflection. 

Entering  the  surrogate's  room  Lady  Constantine 
managed,  at  the  last  juncture,  to  state  her  errand  in 
tones  so  collected  as  to  startle  even  herself;  to  which 
her  listener  replied  also  as  if  the  whole  thing  were  the 
most  natural  in  the  world.  When  it  came  to  the 
affirmation  that  she  had  lived  fifteen  days  in  the  parish, 
she  said  with  dismay — 

*  O  no !  I  thought  the  fifteen  days  meant  the 
interval  of  residence  before  the  marriage  takes  place. 
I  have  lived  here  only  thirteen  days  and  a  half.  Now 
I  must  come  again  ! ' 

*  Ah — well — I  think  you  need  not  be  so  particular,' 
said  the  surrogate.  '  As  a  matter  of  fact,  though  the 
letter  of  the  law  requires  fifteen  days'  residence,  many 
people  make  five  sufficient.  The  provision  is  inserted, 
as  you  doubtless  are  aware,  to  hinder  runaway  marriages 
as  much  as  possible,  and  secret  unions,  and  other  such 
objectionable  practices.     You  need  not  come  again.' 

That  evening  Lady  Constantine  wrote  to  Swithin 
St.  Cleeve  the  last  letter  of  the  fortnight : — 

My  Dearest, — Do  come  to  me  as  soon  as  you  can.  By 
a  sort  of  favouring  blunder  I  have  been  able  to  shorten  the 
time  of  waiting  by  a  day.  Come  at  once,  for  I  am  almost 
broken  down  with  apprehension.  It  seems  rather  rash  at 
moments,  all  this,  and  I  wish  you  were  here  to  reassure  me. 
I  did  not  know  I  should  feel  so  alarmed.  I  am  frightened  at 
every  footstep,  and  dread  lest  anybody  who  knows  me  should 
accost  me,  and  find  out  why  I  am  here.  I  sometimes  wonder 
how  I  could  have  agreed  to  come  and  enact  your  part,  but  I 
did  not  realize  how  trying  it  would  be.  You  ought  not  to 
have  asked  me,  Swithin  ;  upon  my  word,  it  was  too  cruel  of 

129 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

you,  and  I  will  punish  you  for  it  when  you  come !  But  I 
won't  upbraid  ;  for  O  I  want  you  so !  I  hope  the  homestead 
is  repaired  that  has  cost  me  all  this  sacrifice  of  modesty.  If 
it  were  anybody  in  the  world  but  you  in  question  I  would 
rush  home,  without  waiting  here  for  the  end  of  it, — I  really 
think  I  would !  But,  dearest,  no.  I  must  show  my  strength 
now,  or  let  it  be  for  ever  hid.  The  barriers  of  ceremony  are 
broken  down  between  us,  and  it  is  for  the  best  that  I  am  here. 

And  yet,  at  no  point  of  this  trying  prelude  need 
Lady  Constantine  have  feared  for  her  strength.  Deeds 
in  this  connexion  demand  the  particular  kind  of  courage 
that  such  perfervid  women  are  endowed  with,  the 
courage  of  their  emotions,  in  which  young  men  are 
often  lamentably  deficient.  Her  fear  was,  in  truth, 
the  fear  of  being  discovered  in  an  unwonted  position  ; 
not  of  the  act  itself.  And  though  her  letter  was  in 
its  way  a  true  exposition  of  her  feeling,  had  it  been 
necessary  to  go  through  the  whole  legal  process  over 
again  she  would  have  been  found  equal  to  the 
emergency. 

It  had  been  for  some  days  a  point  of  anxiety  with 
her  what  to  do  with  Green  during  the  morning  of  the 
wedding.  Chance  unexpectedly  helped  her  in  this 
difficulty.  The  day  before  the  purchase  of  the  license 
Green  came  to  Lady  Constantine  with  a  letter  in  her 
hand  from  her  husband  Anthony,  her  face  as  long  as 
a  fiddle. 

'  I  hope  there's  nothing  the  matter  ? '  said  Lady 
Constantine. 

'  The  child's  took  bad,  my  lady !  *  said  Mrs.  Green, 
with  suspended  floods  of  water  in  her  eyes.  '  I  love 
the  child  better  than  I  shall  love  all  them  that's  cominof 
put  together ;  for  he's  been  a  good  boy  to  his  mother 
ever  since  twelve  weeks  afore  he  was  born !  'Twas 
he,  a  tender  deary,  that  made  Anthony  marry  me,  and 
thereby  turned  hisself  from  a  little  calamity  to  a  little 
blessing!  For,  as  you  well  know,  the  man  were  a 
backward  man  in  the  church  part  o'  matrimony,  my 
lady ;  though  he'll  do  anything  when  he's  forced  a  bit 

130 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

by  his  manly  feelings.     And  now  to  lose  the  child — 
hoo-hoo-hoo !     What  shall  I  doo ! ' 

*  Well,  you  want  to  go  home  at  once,  I  suppose  ? ' 
Mrs.  Green  explained,  between  her  sobs,  that  such 
was  her  desire  ;  and  though  this  was  a  day  or  two 
sooner  than  her  mistress  had  wished  to  be  left  alone 
she  consented  to  Green's  departure.  So  during  the 
afternoon  her  woman  went  off,  with  directions  to 
prepare  for  Lady  Constantlne's  return  in  two  or  three 
days.  But  as  the  exact  day  of  her  return  was  un- 
certain no  carriage  was  to  be  sent  to  the  station  to 
meet  her,  her  intention  being  to  hire  one  from  the 
hotel. 

Lady  Constantine  was  now  left  in  utter  solitude  to 
await  her  lover's  arrival. 


XVIII 

A  MORE  beautiful  October  morning  than  that  of  the 
next  day  never  beamed  upon  the  Welland  groves. 
The  yearly  dissolution  of  leafage  was  setting  in  apace. 
The  foliage  of  the  park  trees  rapidly  resolved  itself 
into  the  multitude  of  complexions  which  mark  the 
subtle  grades  of  decay,  reflecting  wet  lights  of  such 
innumerable  hues  that  it  was  a  wonder  to  think  their 
beauties  only  a  repetition  of  scenes  that  had  been 
exhibited  there  on  scores  of  previous  Octobers,  and 
had  been  allowed  to  pass  away  without  a  single  dirge 
from  the  imperturbable  beings  who  walked  among 
them.  Far  in  the  shadows  semi-opaque  screens  of 
blue  haze  made  mysteries  of  the  commonest  gravel-pit, 
dingle,  or  recess. 

The  wooden  cabin  at  the  foot  of  Rings- Hill  Speer 
had  been  furnished  by  Swithin  as  a  sitting  and  sleeping 
apartment,  some  little  while  before  this  time  ;  for  he 
had  found  it  highly  convenient,  during  night  observa- 
tions at  the  top  of  the  column,  to  remain  on  the  spot 
all  night,  not  to  disturb  his  grandmother  by  passing  in 
and  out  of  the  house,  and  to  save  himself  the  labour 
of  incessantly  crossing  the  field. 

He  would  much  have  liked  to  tell  her  the  secret, 
and,  had  it  been  his  own  to  tell,  would  probably  have 
done  so ;  but  sharing  it  with  an  objector  who  knew 
not  his  grandmother's  affection  so  well  as  he  did  him- 
self, there  was  no  alternative  to  holding  his  tongue. 
The  more  effectually  to  guard  it  he  decided  to  sleep 
at  the  cabin  during  the  two  or  three  nights  previous 

132 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

to  his  departure,  leaving  word  at  the  homestead  that 
In  a  day  or  two  he  was  going  on  an  excursion. 

It  was  very  necessary  to  start  early.  Long  before 
the  great  eye  of  the  sun  was  lifted  high  enough  to 
glance  into  the  Welland  glades,  St.  Cleeve  arose  from 
his  bed  in  the  cabin  and  prepared  to  depart,  cooking 
his  breakfast  upon  a  litde  stove  in  the  corner.  The 
young  rabbits  littered  during  the  foregoing  summer 
watched  his  preparations  through  the  open  door  from 
the  grey  dawn  without,  as  he  busded,  half  dressed,  in 
and  out  under  the  boughs,  and  among  the  blackberries 
and  brambles  that  grew  around. 

It  was  a  strange  place  for  a  bridegroom  to  perform 
his  toilet  in,  but,  considering  the  unconventional  nature 
of  the  marriage,  a  not  inappropriate  one.  What  events 
had  been  enacted  in  that  earthen  camp  since  it  was 
first  thrown  up,  nobody  could  say  ;  but  the  primitive 
simplicity  of  the  young  man's  preparations  accorded 
well  with  the  prehistoric  spot  on  which  they  were 
made.  Embedded  under  his  feet  were  possibly  even 
now  rude  trinkets  that  had  been  worn  at  bridal  cere- 
monies of  the  early  inhabitants.  Little  signified  those 
ceremonies  to-day,  or  the  happiness  or  otherwise  of  the 
contracting  parties.  That  his  own  rite,  nevertheless, 
signified  much,  was  the  inconsequent  reasoning  of 
Swithin,  as  it  is  of  many  another  bridegroom  besides ; 
and  he,  like  the  rest,  went  on  with  his  preparations 
in  that  mood  which  sees  in  his  stale  repetition  the 
wondrous  possibilities  of  an  untried  move. 

Then  through  the  wet  cobwebs,  that  hung  like 
movable  diaphragms  on  each  blade  and  bough,  he 
pushed  his  way  down  to  the  furrow  which  led  from 
"the  secluded  fir-tree  island  to  the  wide  world  beyond 
the  field. 

He  was  not  a  stranger  to  enterprise,  and  still  less 
to  the  contemplation  of  enterprise  ;  but  an  enterprise 
such  as  this  he  had  never  even  outlined.  That  his 
dear  lady  was  troubled  at  the  situation  he  had  placed 
her  in  by  not  going  himself  on  that  errand,  he  could 

133 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

see  from  her  letter ;  but,  believing  an  immediate 
marriage  with  her  to  be  the  true  way  of  restoring  to 
both  that  equanimity  necessary  to  serene  philosophy, 
he  held  it  of  little  account  how  the  marriage  was 
brought  about,  and  happily  began  his  journey  towards 
her  place  of  sojourn. 

He  passed  through  a  little  copse  before  leaving  the 
parish,  the  smoke  from  newly  lit  fires  rising  like  the 
stems  of  blue  trees  out  of  the  few  cottage  chimneys. 
Here  he  heard  a  quick,  familiar  footstep  in  the  path 
ahead  of  him,  and,  turning  the  corner  of  the  bushes, 
confronted  the  foot-post  on  his  way  to  Welland.  In 
answer  to  St.  Cleeve's  inquiry  if  there  was  anything 
for  himself  the  postman  handed  out  one  letter,  and 
proceeded  on  his  route. 

Swithin  opened  and  read  the  letter  as  he  walked, 
till  it  brought  him  to  a  standstill  by  the  importance 
of  its  contents. 

They  were  enough  to  agitate  a  more  phlegmatic 
youth  than  he.  He  leant  over  the  wicket  which  came 
in  his  path,  and  endeavoured  to  comprehend  the  sense 
of  the  whole. 

The  large  long  envelope  contained,  first,  a  letter 
from  a  solicitor  in  a  northern  town,  informing  him  that 
his  paternal  great-uncle,  who  had  recently  returned 
from  the  Cape  (whither  he  had  gone  in  an  attempt 
to  repair  a  broken  constitution),  was  now  dead  and 
buried.  This  great-uncle's  name  was  like  a  new 
creation  to  Swithin.  He  had  held  no  communication 
with  the  young  man's  branch  of  the  family  for  in- 
numerable years, — never,  in  fact,  since  the  marriage  of 
Swithin's  father  with  the  simple  daughter  of  Welland 
Farm.  He  had  been  a  bachelor  to  the  end  of  his  life, 
and  had  amassed  a  fairly  good  professional  fortune  by 
a  long  and  extensive  medical  practice  in  the  smoky, 
dreary,  manufacturing  town  in  which  he  had  lived 
and  died.  Swithin  had  always  been  taught  to  think 
of  him  as  the  embodiment  of  all  that  was  unpleasant 
in  man.     He  was  narrow,   sarcastic,   and  shrewd  to 

134 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

unseemliness.  That  very  shrewdness  had  enabled 
him,  without  much  professional  profundity,  to  establish 
his  large  and  lucrative  connexion,  which  lay  almost 
entirely  among  a  class  who  neither  looked  nor  cared 
for  drawing-room  courtesies. 

However,   what   Dr.   St.    Cleeve   had    been   as   a 
practitioner  matters  little.      He  was  now  dead,  and  the 
bulk  of  his  property  had   been   left   to  persons  with 
!  whom  this  story  has  nothing  to  do.      But  Swithin  was 
I  informed  that  out  of  it  there  was  a  bequest  of  ^600  a 
j  year  to  himself, — payment  of  which  was  to  begin  with 
his  twenty-first  year,  and  continue  for  his  life,  unless 
he  should  marry  before  reaching  the  age  of  twenty- 
five.      In  the  latter  precocious  and  objectionable  event 
his  annuity  would   be   forfeited.     The  accompanying 
letter,  said  the  solicitor,  would  explain  all. 

This,  the  second  letter,  was  from  his  uncle  to  him- 
self, written  about  a  month  before  the  former's  death, 
and  deposited  with  his  will,  to  be  forwarded  to  his 
nephew  when  that  event  should  have  taken  place. 
Swithin  read,  with  the  solemnity  that  such  posthumous 
epistles  inspire,  the  following  words  from  one  who, 
during  life,  had  never  once  addressed  him  : — 

Dear   Nephew, — You   will    doubtless  experience  some 

!  astonishment  at  receivingr  a  communication  from  one  whom 

I  you  have  never  personally  known,  and  who,  when  this  comes 

I  into  your  hands,  will  be  beyond  the  reach  of  your  knowledge. 

I  Perhaps  I  am   the  loser  by  this   life-long  mutual   ignorance. 

Perhaps  I  am  much  to  blame  for  it ;  perhaps  not.     But  such 

reflections  are  profitless   at  this  date  :    I   have  written  with 

quite  other  views  than  to  work  up  a  sentimental  regret  on 

I  such  an  amazingly  remote  hypothesis  as  that  the  fact  of  a 

[.particular  pair  of  people  not  meeting,  among  the  millions  of 

I  other  pairs  of  people  who  have  never  met,  is  a  great  calamity 

I  either  to  the  world  in  general  or  to  themselves. 

j        The  occasion  of  my  addressing  you  is  briefly  this  :  Nine 

I  months  ago  a  report  casually  reached  me  that  your  scientific 

studies  were  pursued  by  you  with  great  ability,  and  that  you 

were  a  young  man  of  some  promise  as  an  astronomer.     My 

i  own  scientific  proclivities  rendered  the  report  more  interesting 

I  than  it  might  otherwise  have  been  to  me ;  and  it  came  upon 

135 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

me  quite  as  a  surprise  that  any  issue  of  your  father's  marriage 
should  have  so  much  in  him,  or  you  might  have  seen  more  of 
me  in  former  years  than  you  are  ever  likely  to  do  now.  My 
health  had  then  begun  to  fail,  and  I  was  starting  for  the  Cape, 
or  I  should  have  come  myself  to  inquire  into  your  condition 
and  prospects.  I  did  not  return  till  six  months  later,  and  as 
my  health  had  not  improved  I  sent  a  trusty  friend  to  examine 
into  your  life,  pursuits,  and  circumstances,  without  your  own 
knowledge,  and  to  report  his  observations  to  me.  This  he 
did.     Through  him  I  learnt,  of  favourable  news  : — 

(i)  That  you  worked  assiduously  at  the  science  of 
astronomy. 

(2)  That  everything  was  auspicious  in  the  career  you  had 
chosen. 

Of  unfavourable  news  : — 

(i)  That  the  small  income  at  your  command,  even  when 
eked  out  by  the  sum  to  which  you  would  be  entitled  on  your 
grandmother's  death  and  the  freehold  of  the  homestead,  would 
be  inadequate  to  support  you  becomingly  as  a  scientific  man, 
whose  lines  of  work  were  of  a  nature  not  calculated  to  produce 
emoluments  for  many  years,  if  ever. 

(2)  That  there  was  something  in  your  path  worse  than 
narrow  means,  and  that  that  something  was  a  woman. 

To  save  you,  if  possible,  from  ruin  on  these  heads,  I  take 
the  preventive  measures  detailed  below. 

The  chief  step  is,  as  my  solicitor  will  have  informed  you, 
that,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  the  sum  of  £6qo  a  year  be 
settled  on  you  for  life,  provided  you  have  not  married  before 
reaching  that  age  ; — a  yearly  gift  of  an  equal  sum  to  be  also 
provisionally  made  to  you  in  the  interim — and,  vice  versa, 
that  if  you  have  married  before  reaching  the  age  of  twenty- 
five  you  will  receive  nothing  from  the  date  of  the  marriage. 

One  object  of  my  bequest  is  that  you  may  have  resources  i 
sufficient  to  enable  you  to  travel  and  study  the  Southern  i 
constellations.  When  at  the  Cape,  after  hearing  of  your  • 
pursuits,  I  was  much  struck  with  the  importance  of  those  • 
constellations  to  an  astronomer  just  pushing  into  notice.  . 
There  is  more  to  be  made  of  the  Southern  hemisphere  \ 
than  ever  has  been  made  of  it  yet  ;  the  mine  is  not  so  • 
thoroughly  worked  as  the  Northern,  and  thither  your  studies  i 
should  tend. 

The  only  other   preventive  step  in   my  power  is  that  of' 
exhortation,  at  which  I  am  not  an  adept.     Nevertheless,  I  say 
to  you,  Swithin  St.  Cleeve,  don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself,  as 
your  father  did.     If  your  studies  are  to  be  worth  anything, 

136  1 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

believe  me,  they  must  be  carried  on  without  the  help  of  a 
woman.  Avoid  her,  and  every  one  of  the  sex,  if  you  mean  to 
achieve  any  worthy  thing.  Eschew  all  of  that  sort  for  many 
a  year  yet.  Moreover,  I  say,  the  lady  of  your  acquaintance 
avoid  in  particular.  I  have  heard  nothing  against  her  moral 
character  hitherto  ;  I  have  no  doubt  it  has  been  excellent. 
She  may  have  many  good  qualities,  both  of  heart  and  of 
mind.  But  she  has,  in  addition  to  her  original  disqualification 
as  a  companion  for  you  (that  is,  that  of  sex),  these  two  serious 
drawbacks  :  she  is  much  older  than  yourself — 

*  Much  older  ! '  said  Swithin  resentfully. 

— and  she  is  so  impoverished  that  the  title  she  derives 
from  her  late  husband  is  a  positive  objection.  Beyond  this, 
frankly,  I  don't  think  well  of  her.  I  don't  think  well  of  any 
woman  who  dotes  upon  a  man  so  much  younger  than  herself. 
To  care  to  be  the  first  fancy  of  a  young  fellow  like  you  shows 
no  great  common  sense  in  her.  If  she  were  worth  her  salt 
she  would  have  too  much  pride  to  be  intimate  with  a  youth 
in  your  unassured  position,  to  say  no  worse.  She  is  old 
enough  to  know  that  a  liaison  with  her  may,  and  almost 
certainly  would,  be  your  ruin  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  a 
marriage  would  be  preposterous, — unless  she  is  a  complete 
goose,  and  in  that  case  there  is  even  more  reason  for  avoiding 
her  than  if  she  were  in  her  few  senses. 

A  woman  of  honourable  feeling,  nephew,  would  be  careful 
to  do  nothing  to  hinder  you  in  your  career,  as  this  putting  of 
herself  in  your  way  most  certainly  will.  Yet  I  hear  that  she 
professes  a  great  anxiety  on  this  same  future  of  yours  as  a 
physicist.  The  best  way  in  which  she  can  show  the  reality 
of  her  anxiety  is  by  leaving  you  to  yourself.  Perhaps  she 
persuades  herself  that  she  is  doing  you  no  harm.  Well,  let 
her  have  the  benefit  of  the  possible  belief;  but  depend  upon  it 
that  in  truth  she  gives  the  lie  to  her  conscience  by  maintaining 
such  a  transparent  fallacy.  Women's  brains  are  not  formed 
for  assisting  at  any  profound  science :  they  lack  the  power  to 
see  things  except  in  the  concrete.  She'll  blab  your  most 
secret  plans  and  theories  to  every  one  of  her  acquaintance — 

'She's  got  none!'  said  Swithin,  beginning  to  get 
warm. 

— and  make  them  appear  ridiculous  by  announcing  them 
before  they  are  matured.  If  you  attempt  to  study  with  a 
woman,  you'll  be  ruled  by  her  to  entertain  fancies  instead  of 

137 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

theories,  air-castles  instead  of  intentions,  qualms  instead  of 
opinions,  sickly  prepossessions  instead  of  reasoned  conclusions. 
Your  wide  heaven  of  study,  young  man,  will  soon  reduce  itself 
to  the  miserable  narrow  expanse  of  her  face,  and  your  myriad 
of  stars  to  her  two  trumpery  eyes. 

A  woman  waking  a  young  man's  passions  just  at  a 
moment  when  he  is  endeavouring  to  shine  intellectually,  is 
doing  little  less  than  committing  a  crime. 

Like  a  certain  philosopher  I  would,  upon  my  soul,  have  all 
young  men  from  eighteen  to  twenty-five  kept  under  barrels ; 
seeing  how  often,  in  the  lack  of  some  such  sequestering 
process,  the  woman  sits  down  before  each  as  his  destiny,  and 
too  frequently  enervates  his  purpose,  till  he  abandons  the 
most  promising  course  ever  conceived  ! 

But  no  more.  I  now  leave  your  fate  in  your  own  hands. 
Your  well-wishing  relative,  Jocelyn  St.  Cleeve, 

Doctor  in  Medicine. 

As  coming  from  a  bachelor  and  hardened  mis- 
ogynist of  seventy-two,  the  opinions  herein  contained 
were  nothing  remarkable  :  but  their  practical  result 
in  restricting  the  sudden  endowment  of  Swiihin's 
researches  by  conditions  which  turned  the  favour  into 
a  harassment  was,  at  this  unique  moment,  discomfiting 
and  distracting  in  the  highest  degree. 

Sensational,  however,  as  the  letter  was,  the 
passionate  intention  of  the  day  was  not  hazarded  for 
more  than  a  few  minutes  thereby.  The  truth  was, 
the  caution  and  bribe  came  too  late,  too  unexpectedly, 
to  be  of  influence.  They  were  the  sort  of  thing  which 
required  fermentation  to  render  them  effective.  Had 
St.  Cleeve  received  the  exhortation  a  month  earlier ; 
had  he  been  able  to  run  over  in  his  mind,  at  every 
wakeful  hour  of  thirty  consecutive  nights,  a  private 
catechism  on  the  possibilities  opened  up  by  this 
annuity,  there  is  no  telling  what  might  have  been  the 
stress  of  such  a  web  of  perplexity  upon  him,  a  young 
man  whose  love  for  celestial  physics  was  second  to 
none.  But  to  have  held  before  him,  at  the  last 
moment,  the  picture  of  a  future  advantage  that  he 
had  never  once  thought  of,  or  discounted  for  present 

138 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

staying  power,  it  affected  him  about  as  much  as  the 
view  of  horizons  shown  by  sheet-lightning.  He  saw 
an  immense  prospect ;  it  went,  and  the  world  was 
as  before. 

He  caught  the  train  at  Warborne,  and  moved 
rapidly  towards  Bath  ;  not  precisely  in  the  same  key 
as  when  he  had  dressed  in  the  hut  at  dawn,  but, 
as  regarded  the  mechanical  part  of  the  journey,  as 
unhesitatingly  as  before. 

And  with  the  change  of  scene  even  his  gloom  left 
him  ;  his  bosom's  lord  sat  lightly  in  his  throne.  St. 
Cleeve  was  not  sufficiently  in  mind  of  poetical  litera- 
ture to  remember  that  wise  poets  are  accustomed 
to  read  that  lightness  of  bosom  inversely.  Swithin 
thought  it  an  omen  of  good  fortune  ;  and  as  thinking 
is  causing  in  not  a  few  such  cases,  he  was  perhaps, 
in  spite  of  poets,  right. 


XIX 

At  the  station  Lady  Constantine  appeared,  standing 
expectant,  and  dressed  as  if  she  had  never  been 
married  at  all ;  he  saw  her  face  from  the  window  of 
the  carriage  long  before  she  saw  him.  He  no  sooner 
saw  her  than  he  was  satisfied  to  his  heart's  content 
with  his  prize.  If  his  great-uncle  had  offered  him 
from  the  grave  a  kingdom  instead  of  her,  he  would 
not  have  accepted  it. 

Swithin  jumped  out,  and  nature  never  painted  in 
a  woman's  face  more  devotion  than  appeared  in  my 
lady's  at  that  moment.  To  both  the  situation  seemed 
like  a  beautiful  allegory,  not  to  be  examined  too 
closely,  lest  its  defects  of  correspondence  with  real 
life  should  be  apparent.  ^ 

They  almost  feared  to  shake  hands  in  public,  so 
much  depended  upon  their  passing  that  morning 
without  molestation.  A  fly  was  called  and  they 
drove  away. 

*  Take  this,*  she  said,  handing  him  a  folded  paper. 
*  It  belongs  to  you  rather  than  to  me.' 

At  crossings,  and  other  occasional  pauses,  pedes- 
trians turned  their  faces  and  looked  at  the  pair  (for 
no  reason  but  that,  among  so  many,  there  were 
naturally  a  few  of  the  sort  who  have  eyes  to  note 
what  incidents  come  in  their  way  as  they  plod  on) ; 
but  the  two  in  the  vehicle  could  not  but  fear  that 
these  innocent  beholders  had  special  detective  designs 
on  them. 

*You   look  so  dreadfully  young!*    she  said  with 

140 


i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

humorous  fretfulness,  as  they  drove  along  (Swlthln's 
cheeks  being  amazingly  fresh  from  the  morning  air). 
*  Do  try  to  appear  a  little  haggard,  that  the  parson 
mayn't  ask  us  awkward  questions  ! ' 

Nothing  further  happened,  and  they  were  set 
down  opposite  a  shop  about  fifty  yards  from  the 
church  door,  at  five  minutes  to  eleven. 

*We  will  dismiss  the  fly,'  she  said.  *  It  will  only 
attract  idlers.' 

On  turning  the  corner  and  reaching  the  church 
they  found  the  door  ajar ;  but  the  building  contained 
only  two  persons,  a  man  and  a  woman, — the  clerk 
and  his  wife,  as  they  learnt.  Swithin  asked  when 
the  clergyman  would  arrive. 

The  clerk  looked  at  his  watch,  and  said,  *  At  just 
on  eleven  o'clock.' 

'  He  ought  to  be  here,'  said  Swithin. 

*Yes,'  replied  the  clerk,  as  the  hour  struck.  *  The 
fact  is,  sir,  he  is  a  deppity,  and  apt  to  be  rather 
wandering  in  his  wits  as  regards  time  and  such  like, 
which  have  stood  in  the  way  of  the  man's  getting  a 
benefit.     But  no  doubt  he'll  come.' 

*  The  regular  incumbent  is  away,  then  ?  * 

*  He's  gone  for  his  bare  pa'son's  fortnight, — that's 
all ;  and  we  was  forced  to  put  up  with  a  weak-talented 
man  or  none.  The  best  men  goes  into  the  brewing, 
or  into  the  shipping  now -a- days,  you  see,  sir; 
doctrines  being  rather  shaddery  at  present,  and  your 
money's  worth  not  sure  in  our  line.  So  we  church 
officers  be  left  poorly  provided  with  men  for  odd  jobs. 
I'll  tell  ye  what,  sir ;  I  think   I'd  better  run  round  to 

.the  gentleman's  lodgings,  and  try  to  find  him  ? ' 

'  Pray  do,'  said  Lady  Constantine. 

The  clerk  left  the  church ;  his  wife  busied  herself 
with  dusting  at  the  further  end,  and  Swithin  and 
Viviette  were  left  to  themselves.  The  imagination 
travels  so  rapidly,  and  a  woman's  forethought  is  so 
assumptive,  that  the  clerk's  departure  had  no  sooner 
doomed  them  to  inaction  than  it  was  borne  in  upon 

141 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Lady  Constantine's  mind  that  she  would  not  become 
the  wife  of  Swithin  St.  Cleeve,  either  to-day  or  on 
any  other  day.  Her  divinations  were  continually 
misleading  her,  she  knew  :  but  a  hitch  at  the  moment 
of  marriage  surely  had  a  meaning  in  it. 

'  Ah, — the  marriage  is  not  to  be ! '  she  said  to  her^ 
self.      *  This  is  a  fatality.' 

It  was  twenty  minutes  past,  and  no  parson  had 
arrived.     Swithin  took  her  hand. 

*  If  it  cannot  be  to-day,  it  can  be  to-morrow,'  he 
whispered. 

*  I  cannot  say,'  she  answered.  *  Something  tells 
me  no.' 

It  was  almost  impossible  that  she  could  know  any 
thing  of  the  deterrent  force  exercised  on  Swithin  by 
his  dead  uncle  that  morning.     Yet  her  manner  tallied 
so  curiously  well  with  such  knowledge  that  he  was 
struck  by  it,  and  remained  silent. 

*  You  have  a  black  tie,'  she  continued,  looking  at 
him. 

*Yes,*  replied  Swithin.  *I  bought  it  on  my  way 
here.' 

'Why  could  it  not  have  been  less  sombre  in 
colour  ? ' 

*  My  great-uncle  is  dead.' 

*  You  had  a  great-uncle  ?     You  never  told  me.' 

*  I  never  saw  him  in  my  life.  I  have  only  heard 
about  him  since  his  death.' 

He  spoke  in  as  quiet  and  measured  a  way  as  he 
could,  but  his  heart  was  sinking.  She  would  go  on 
questioning ;  he  could  not  tell  her  an  untruth.  She 
would  discover  particulars  of  that  great -uncle's  pro- 
vision for  him,  which  he,  Swithin,  was  throwing  away 
for  her  sake,  and  she  would  refuse  to  be  his  for  his 
own  sake.  His  conclusion  at  this  moment  was  pre- 
cisely what  hers  had  been  five  minutes  sooner :  they 
were  never  to  be  husband  and  wife. 

But  she  did  not  continue  her  questions,  for  the 
simplest  of  all  reasons  :  hasty  footsteps  were  audible 

142 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

in  the  entrance,  and  the  parson  was  seen  coming  up 
the  aisle,  the  clerk  behind  him  wiping  the  beads  of 
perspiration  from  his  face.  The  somewhat  sorry  clerical 
specimen  shook  hands  with  them,  and  entered  the 
vestry ;  and  the  clerk  came  up  and  opened  the  book. 

'  The  poor  gentleman's  memory  is  a  bit  topsy- 
turvy,' whispered  the  latter.  '  He  had  got  it  in  his 
mind  that  'twere  a  funeral,  and  I  found  him  wandering 
about  the  cemetery  a-looking  for  us.  However,  all's 
well  as  ends  well.'  And  the  clerk  wiped  his  forehead 
again. 

*  How  ill-omened  ! '  murmured  Viviette. 

But  the  parson  came  out  robed  at  this  moment,  and 
the  clerk  put  on  his  ecclesiastical  countenance  and 
looked  in  his  book.  Lady  Constantine's  momentary 
languor  passed  ;  her  blood  resumed  its  courses  with  a 
new  spring.  The  grave  utterances  of  the  church  then 
rolled  out  upon  the  palpitating  pair,  and  no  couple 
ever  joined  their  whispers  thereto  with  more  fervency 
than  they. 

Lady  Constantine  (as  she  continued  to  be  called  by 
the  outside  world,  though  she  liked  to  think  herself  the 
Mrs.  St.  Cleeve  that  she  legally  was)  had  told  Green 
that  she  might  be  expected  at  Welland  in  a  day,  or 
two,  or  three,  as  circumstances  should  dictate.  Though 
the  time  of  return  was  thus  left  open  it  was  deemed 
advisable,  by  both  Swithin  and  herself,  that  her  journey 
back  should  not  be  deferred  after  the  next  day,  in 
case  any  suspicions  might  be  aroused.  As  for  St. 
Cleeve,  his  comings  and  goings  were  of  no  conse- 
quence. It  was  seldom  known  whether  he  was  at 
home  or  abroad,  by  reason  of  his  frequent  seclusion  at 
the  column. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  he  accom- 
panied her  to  the  Bath  station,  intending  himself  to 
remain  in  that  city  till  the  following  morning.  But 
when  a  man  or  youth  has  such  a  tender  article  on  his 
hands  as  a  thirty-hour  bride  it  is  hardly  in  the  power 
of  his  strongest  reason  to  set  her  down  at  a  railway, 

143 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  send  her  off  like  a  superfluous  portmanteau 
Hence  the  experiment  of  parting  so  soon  after  theii 
union  proved  excruciatingly  severe  to  these.  Th( 
evening  was  dull ;  the  breeze  of  autumn  crept  fitfull) 
through  every  slit  and  aperture  in  the  town  ;  not  a  sou 
in  the  world  seemed  to  notice  or  care  about  anything 
they  did.  Lady  Constantine  sighed  ;  and  there  wa: 
no  resisting  it, — he  could  not  leave  her  thus.  H( 
decided  to  get  into  the  train  with  her,  and  keep  he: 
company  for  at  least  a  few  stations  on  her  way. 

It  drew  on  to  be  a  dark  night,  and,  seeing  tha 
there  was  no  serious  risk  after  all,  he  prolonged  hi: 
journey  with  her  so  far  as  to  the  junction  at  which  th( 
branch  line  to  Warborne  forked  off.  Here  it  wa; 
necessary  to  wait  a  few  minutes,  before  either  he  couk 
go  back  or  she  could  go  on.  They  wandered  outsid( 
the  station  doorway  into  the  gloom  of  the  road,  anc 
there  agreed  to  part. 

While  she  yet  stood  holding  his  arm  a  phaetoi 
sped  towards  the  station-entrance,  where,  in  ascending 
the  slope  to  the  door,  the  horse  suddenly  jibbed.  Th( 
gentleman  who  was  driving,  being  either  impatient,  o 
possessed  with  a  theory  that  all  jibbers  may  be  startec 
by  severe  whipping,  applied  the  lash ;  as  a  resul 
of  it,  the  horse  thrust  round  the  carriage  to  when 
they  stood,  and  the  end  of  the  driver's  sweeping  whij 
cut  across  Lady  Constantine's  face  with  such  severity 
as  to  cause  her  an  involuntary  cry.  S within  turnec 
her  round  to  the  lamplight,  and  discerned  a  streak  o 
blood  on  her  cheek. 

By  this  time  the  gentleman  who  had  done  the 
mischief,  with  many  words  of  regret,  had  given  tht 
reins  to  his  man  and  dismounted. 

*  I  will  go  to  the  waiting-room  for  a  moment, 
whispered  Vivlette  hurriedly ;  and,  loosing  her  banc 
from  his  arm,  she  pulled  down  her  veil  and  vanishec 
inside  the  building. 

The  stranger  came  forward  and  raised  his  hat.  H< 
was  a  slightly  built  and  apparently  town-bred  man  o 

144 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

twenty-eight  or  thirty  ;  his  manner  of  address  was  at 
once  careless  and  conciHatory. 

'  I  am  greatly  concerned  at  what  I  have  done,'  he 
said.  *  I  sincerely  trust  that  your  wife  ' — but  observing 
the  youthfulness  of  Swithin,  he  withdrew  the  word 
suggested  by  the  manner  of  Swithin  towards  Lady 
Constantine — *  I  trust  the  lady  was  not  seriously  cut  ? ' 

*  I  trust  not,'  said  Swithin,  with  some  vexation. 

*  Where  did  the  lash  touch  her?' 

*  Straiofht  down  her  cheek.' 

'  Do  let  me  go  to  her,  and  learn  how  she  is,  and 
humbly  apologize.' 

*  I'll  inquire.' 

He  went  to  the  ladies'  room,  in  which  Viviette  had 
taken  refuge.  She  met  him  at  the  door,  her  handker- 
chief to  her  cheek,  and  Swithin  explained  that  the 
driver  of  the  phaeton  had  sent  to  make  inquiries. 

'  I  cannot  see  him ! '  she  whispered.  *  He  is  my 
brother  Louis !  He  is,  no  doubt,  going  on  by  the 
train  to  my  house.  Don't  let  him  recognize  me !  We 
must  wait  till  he  is  gone.' 

Swithin  thereupon  went  out  again,  and  told  the 
young  man  that  the  cut  on  her  face  was  not  serious, 
but  that  she  could  not  see  him ;  after  which  they 
parted.  St.  Cleeve  then  heard  him  ask  for  a  ticket 
for  Warborne,  which  confirmed  Lady  Constantine's 
view  that  he  was  ofoinpf  on  to  her  house.  When  the 
branch  train  had  moved  off  Swithin  returned  to  his 
bride,  who  waited  in  a  trembling  state  within. 

On  being  informed  that  he  had  departed  she 
showed  herself  much  relieved. 

*  Where  does  your  brother  come  from  ? '  said 
Swithin. 

'  From  London,  immediately.  Rio  before  that. 
He  has  a  friend  or  tw^o  in  this  neighbourhood,  and 
visits  here  occasionally.  I  have  seldom  or  never 
spoken  to  you  of  him,  because  of  his  long  absence.' 

*  Is  he  going  to  settle  near  you  ?  ' 

*No,  nor  anywhere,  I  fear.      He  is,  or  rather  was, 

145 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

in  the    diplomatic    service.       He    was    first    a    clerk 
in  the  Foreign  Office,  and  was  afterwards  appointed 
attache   at    Rio    Janeiro.      But  he  has  resigned  the 
appointment.      I  wish  he  had  not.' 
Swithin  asked  why  he  resigned. 

*  He  complained  of  the  banishment,  and  the 
climate,  and  everything  that  people  complain  of  who 
are  determined  to  be  dissatisfied, — though,  poor  fellow, 
there  is  some  ground  for  his  complaints.  Perhaps 
some  people  would  say  that  he  is  idle.  But  he  is 
scarcely  that ;  he  is  rather  restless  than  idle,  so  that  he 
never  persists  in  anything.  Yet  if  a  subject  takes  his 
fancy  he  will  follow  it  up  with  exemplary  patience  till 
something  diverts  him.' 

*  He  is  not  kind  to  you,  is  he,  dearest?* 

*  Why  do  you  think  that  ?  ' 

*  Your  manner  seems  to  say  so.' 

*Well,  he  may  not  always  be  kind.  But  look  at 
my  face  ;  does  the  mark  show  ?  ' 

A  streak,  straight  as  a  meridian,  was  visible  down 
her  cheek.  The  blood  had  been  brought  almost  to 
the  surface,  but  was  not  quite  through,  that  which  had 
originally  appeared  thereon  having  possibly  come  from 
the  horse.  It  signified  that  to-morrow  the  red  line 
would  be  a  livid  one. 

Swithin  informed  her  that  her  brother  had  taken  a 
ticket  for  Warborne,  and  she  at  once  perceived  that  he 
was  going  on  to  visit  her  at  Welland,  though  from  his 
letter  she  had  not  expected  him  so  soon  by  a  few  days. 
'Meanwhile,'  continued  Swithin,  'you  can  now  get 
home  only  by  the  late  train,  having  missed  that  one.' 

*  But,  Swithin,  don't  you  see  my  new  trouble  ?  If 
I  go  to  Welland  House  to-night,  and  find  my  brother 
just  arrived  there,  and  he  sees  this  cut  on  my  face, — 
which  I  suppose  you  described  to  him ' 

'  I  did.' 

*  He  will  know  I  was  the  lady  with  you  !  * 
'Whom  he    called    my  wife.     I  wonder  why  we 

look  husband  and  wife  already  ! ' 

146 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Then  what  am  I  to  do  ?  For  the  ensuing  three 
or  four  days  I  bear  in  my  face  a  clue  to  his  discovery 
of  our  secret.' 

*  Then  you  must  not  be  seen.  We  must  stay  at 
an  inn  here.' 

*  O  no  ! '  she  said  timidly.  *  It  is  too  near  home  to 
be  quite  safe.  We  might  not  be  known  ;  but  if  we 
were ! ' 

'We  can't  go  back  to  Bath  now.  I'll  tell  you, 
dear  Viviette,  what  we  must  do.  We'll  go  on  to 
Warborne  in  separate  carriages  ;  we'll  rejoin  each  other 
outside  Warborne  station  ;  thence  we'll  walk  to  the 
column  in  the  dark,  and  I'll  keep  you  a  captive  in  the 
cabin  till  the  scar  has  disappeared.' 

As  there  was  nothing  which  better  recommended 
itself  this  course  was  decided  on  ;  and  after  taking 
from  her  trunk  the  articles  that  might  be  required  for 
an  incarceration  of  two  or  three  days  they  left  the  said 
trunk  at  the  cloak-room,  and  went  on  by  the  last  train, 
which  reached  Warborne  about  ten  o'clock. 

It  was  only  necessary  for  Lady  Constantine  to 
cover  her  face  with  the  thick  veil  that  she  had  pro- 
vided for  this  escapade,  to  walk  out  of  the  station 
without  fear  of  recognition.  St.  Cleeve  came  forth 
from  another  compartment,  and  they  did  not  rejoin 
each  other  till  they  had  reached  a  shadowy  bend  in 
the  old  turnpike  road,  beyond  the  irradiation  of  the 
Warborne  lamplight. 

The  walk  to  Welland  was  long.  It  was  the  walk 
which  Swithin  had  taken  in  the  rain  when  he  had 
learnt  the  fatal  forestalment  of  his  stellar  discovery ; 
but  now  he  was  moved  by  a  less  desperate  mood,  and 
ipblamed  neither  God  nor  man.  They  were  not  pressed 
M  for  time,  and  passed  along  the  silent,  lonely  way  with 
.  that  sense  rather  of  predestination  than  of  choice  in 
!;  their  proceedings  which  the  presence  of  night  some- 
[  times  imparts.  Reaching  the  park  gate  they  found  it 
\\  open,  and  from  this  they  inferred  that  her  brother 
Louis  had  arrived. 

147 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Leaving  the  house  and  park  on  their  right  they 
traced  the  highway  yet  a  little  further,  and  plunging 
through  the  stubble  of  the  opposite  field,  drew  near 
the    isolated    earthwork    bearing    the    plantation    and' 
tower,  which  together  rose  like  a  flattened  dome  and : 
lantern  from  the  lighter-hued  plain  of  stubble.     It  was. 
far  too  dark  to  distinguish  firs  from  other  trees  by  the 
eye  alone,  but  the  peculiar  dialect  of  sylvan  language 
which    the    piny    multitude    used    would    have    been 
enough   to  proclaim  their  class   at  any  time.      In  the 
lovers'  stealthy  progress  up  the  slopes  a  dry  stick  here 
and  there  snapped  beneath  their  feet,  seeming  like  a 
shot  of  alarm. 

On  being  unlocked  the  hut  was  found  precisely  as 
Swithin  had  left  it  two  days  before.  Lady  Constantine 
was  thoroughly  wearied,  and  sat  down,  while  he 
gathered  a  handful  of  twigs  and  spikelets  from  the  1 
masses  strewn  without  and  lit  a  small  fire,  first  taking 
the  precaution  to  blind  the  little  window  and  relock 
the  door. 

Lady  Constantine  looked  curiously  around  by  the 
light  of  the  blaze.  The  hut  was  about  the  size  of 
some  Delia's  or  Amanda's  powder-closet  in  Georgian  ( 
times  :  in  one  corner  stood  the  stove,  with  a  little  table 
and  chair,  a  small  cupboard  hard  by,  a  pitcher  of 
water,  a  rack  overhead,  with  various  articles,  including 
a  kettle  and  a  gridiron  ;  while  the  remaining  three  or 
four  feet  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  was  curtained 
off  as  a  dormitory,  for  Swithin's  use  during  late  ob- 
servations in  the  tower  overhead. 

'It  is  not  much  of  a  palace  to  offer  you,'  he 
remarked,  smiling.      *  But  at  any  rate,  it  is  a  refuge.' 

The  cheerful  firelight  dispersed  in  some  measure 
Lady  Constantine's  anxieties.  '  If  we  only  had  some- 
thing to  eat ! '  she  said. 

'Dear  me,'  cried  St.  Cleeve,  blankly.  'That's  a 
thing  I  never  thought  of.' 

*  Nor  I,  till  now,'  she  replied. 

He  reflected  with  misgiving. 

148 


lei 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


ei 


*  Beyond  a  small  loaf  of  bread  in  the  cupboard 
I  have  nothing.  However,  just  outside  the  door 
there  are  lots  of  those  little  rabbits,  about  the 
size  of  rats,  that  the  keepers  call  runners.  And  they 
are  as  tame  as  possible.  But  I  fear  I  could  not  catch 
one  now.  Yet,  dear  Viviette,  wait  a  minute;  I'll  try. 
You  must  not  be  starved.' 

He  softly  let  himself  out,  and  was  gone  some  time. 
When  he  reappeared,  he  produced,  not  a  rabbit,  but 
four  sparrows  and  a  thrush. 

'  I  could  do  nothing  in  the  way  of  a  rabbit  without 
setting  a  wire,'  he  said.  '  But  I  have  managed  to  get 
these  by  knowing  where  they  roost.' 

He  showed  her  how  to  prepare  the  birds,  and, 
having  set  her  to  roast  them  by  the  fire,  departed  with 
the  pitcher,  to  replenish  it  at  the  brook  which  flowed 
near  the  homestead  in  the  neighbouring  Bottom. 

*  They  are  all  asleep  at  my  grandmother's,'  he 
informed  her  when  he  re-entered,  panting,  with  the 
dripping  pitcher.  '  They  imagine  me  to  be  a  hundred 
miles  off' 

The  birds  were  now  ready,  and  the  table  was 
spread.  With  this  fare,  eked  out  by  dry  toast  from 
the  loaf,  and  moistened  with  cups  of  water  from  the 
pitcher,  to  which  Swithin  added  a  little  wine  from  the 
flask  he  had  carried  on  his  journey,  they  were  forced 
to  be  content  for  their  supper. 


XX 

When  Lady  Constantine  awoke  the  next  morning 
Swithin  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Before  she  was 
quite  ready  for  breakfast  she  heard  the  key  turn  in  the 
door,  and  felt  startled,  till  she  remembered  that  the 
comer  could  hardly  be  anybody  but  he.  He  brought 
a  basket  with  provisions,  an  extra  cup-and-saucer,  and 
so  on.  In  a  short  space  of  time  the  kettle  began 
singing  on  the  stove,  and  the  morning  meal  wasj 
ready. 

The  sweet  resinous  air  from  the  firs  blew  in  upon 
them  as  they  sat  at  breakfast ;  the  birds  hopped  round  i 
the  door  (which,  somewhat  riskily,  they  ventured  to  i 
keep  open) ;  and  at  their  elbow  rose  the  lank  column! 
into  an  upper  realm  of  sunlight,  which  only  reached  I 
the  cabin  in  fitful  darts  and  flashes  through  the  trees. 

*  I  could  be  happy  here  for  ever,'  said  she,  clasping; 
his  hand.     *  I  wish  I  could  never  see  my  great  gloomy^ 
house  again,  since  I  am  not  rich  enough  to  throw  itil 
open,  and  live  there  as  I   ought  to  do.      Poverty  of 
this  sort  is  not  unpleasant  at  any  rate.     What  are  you 
thinking  of?'  i 

*  I  am  thinking  about  my  outing  this  morning,  fi 
On  reaching  my  grandmother's  she  was  only  a  little 
surprised  to  see  me.  I  was  obliged  to  breakfast  there, 
or  appear  to  do  so,  to  divert  suspicion  ;  and  this  food 
is  supposed  to  be  wanted  for  my  dinner  and  supper. 
There  will  of  course  be  no  difficulty  in  my  obtaining 
an  ample  supply  for  any  length  of  time,  as  I  can  take 
what    I    like   from    the   buttery  without   observation. 

150 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

But  as  I  looked  in  my  grandmother's  face  this  morn- 
ing, and  saw  her  looking  affectionately  in  mine,  and 
thought  how  she  had  never  concealed  anything  from 
me,  and  had  always  had  my  welfare  at  heart,  I  felt — 
that  I  should  like  to  tell  her  what  we  have  done.' 

*  O  no, — please  not,  Swithin ! '  she  exclaimed 
piteously. 

'Very  well,'  he  answered.  'On  no  consideration 
will  I  do  so  without  your  consent.'  And  no  more  was 
said  on  the  matter. 

The  morning  was  passed  in  applying  wet  rag  and 
other  remedies  to  the  purple  line  on  Viviette's  cheek  ; 
and  in  the  afternoon  they  set  up  the  equatorial  under 
the  replaced  dome,  to  have  it  in  order  for  night 
observations. 

The  evening  was  clear,  dry,  and  remarkably  cold 
by  comparison  with  the  daytime  weather.  After  a 
frugal  supper  they  replenished  the  stuve  with  charcoal 
from  the  homestead,  which  they  also  burnt  during  the 
day, — an  idea  of  Viviette's,  that  the  smoke  from  a 
wood  fire  might  not  be  seen  more  frequently  than  was 
consistent  with  the  occasional  occupation  of  the  cabin 
by  Swithin,  as  heretofore. 

At  eight  o'clock  she  insisted  upon  his  ascending 
the  tower  for  observations,  in  strict  pursuance  of  the 
idea  on  which  their  marriage  had  been  based,  namely, 
that  of  restoring  regularity  to  his  studies. 

The  sky  had  a  new  and  startling  beauty  that  night. 
A  broad,  fluctuating,  semicircular  arch  of  vivid  white 
light  spanned  the  northern  quarter  of  the  heavens, 
reaching  from  the  horizon  to  the  star  Eta  in  the 
Greater  Bear.  It  was  the  Aurora  Borealis,  just  risen 
up  for  the  winter  season  out  of  the  freezing  seas  of  the 
north,  where  every  autumn  vapour  was  now  under- 
going rapid  congelation. 

*  O,  let  us  sit  and  look  at  it ! '  she  said  ;  and  they 
turned  their  backs  upon  the  equatorial  and  the 
southern  glories  of  the  heavens  to  this  new  beauty  in 
a  quarter  which  they  seldom  contemplated. 

151 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  lustre  of  the  fixed  stars  was  diminished  to  a 
sort  of  blueness.  Little  by  little  the  arch  grew  higher 
against  the  dark  void,  like  the  form  of  the  Spirit- 
maiden  in  the  shades  of  Glenfinlas,  till  its  crown  drewj 
near  the  zenith,  and  threw  a  tissue  over  the  whole 
waggon  and  horses  of  the  great  northern  constellation. 
Brilliant  shafts  radiated  from  the  convexity  of  the 
arch,  coming  and  going  silently.  The  temperature 
fell,  and  Lady  Constantine  drew  her  wrap  more 
closely  around  her. 

'We'll    go    down,'  said    S within.      'The    cabin   isi 
beautifully    warm.     Why    should    we    try  to    observe' 
to-night?     Indeed,  we  cannot;  the  Aurora  light  over- 
powers everything.' 

'  Very  well.     To-morrow  night  there  will  be  no  ^ 
interruption.      I  shall  be  gone.'  , 

'  You  leave  me  to-morrow,  Viviette  ?  *  | 

'  Yes  ;  to-morrow  morning.' 

The  truth  was  that,  with  the  progress  of  the  hours?  I 
and  days,  the  conviction  had  been  borne  in  upon 
Viviette  more  and  more  forcibly  that  not  for  kingdoms 
and  principalities  could  she  afford  to  risk  the  discovery  I  j 
of  her  presence  here  by  any  living  soul. 

'  But  let  me  see  your  face,  dearest,'  he  said.     '  1 1 
don't    think    it    will    be    safe    for    you    to    meet   your 
brother  yet.' 

As  it  was  too  dark  to  see  her  face  on  the  summit ' 
where  they  sat  they  descended  the  winding  staircase ; 
and    in    the    cabin    Swithin    examined    the    damaged 
cheek.     The  line,  though  so  far  attenuated  as  not  tor 
be  observable  by  any  one  but  a  close  observer,  haA 
not   quite    disappeared.      But    in   consequence   of  he^L 
reiterated   and   almost  tearful   anxiety   to  go,  and  adi 
there  was  a  strong  probability  that  her  brother  had: 
left   the   house,    Swithin    decided   to   call   at  Wellan($; 
next   morning,   and    reconnoitre   with    a    view   to  her 
return. 

Getting  up  and  locking  her  in  he  crossed  the  dewy 
stubble    into    the    park.     The    house   was   silent    and 

152 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

deserted  ;  and  only  one  stalk  of  smoke  ascended  from 
the  chimneys.  Notwithstanding  that  the  hour  was 
nearly  nine  he  knocked  at  the  door. 

'  Is  Lady  Constantine  at  home  ? '  asked  Swithin, 
w^ith  a  disingenuousness  now  habitual,  yet  unknown  to 
him  six  months  before. 

*  No,  Mr.  St.  Cleeve  ;  my  lady  has  not  returned 
from  Bath.     We  expect  her  every  day.' 

*  Nobody  staying  in  the  house  ?  ' 

*  My  lady's  brother  has  been  here  ;  but  he  is  gone 
on  to  Budmouth.  He  will  come  again  in  two  or  three 
weeks,  I  understand.' 

This  was  enough.  Swithin  said  he  would  call 
again,  and  returned  to  the  cabin,  where,  waking 
\^iviette,  who  was  not  by  nature  an  early  riser,  he 
waited  on  the  column  till  she  was  ready  to  breakfast. 
When  this  had  been  shared  they  prepared  to  start. 

A  long;  walk  was  before  them.  W^arborne  station 
lay  five  miles  distant,  and  the  next  station  above  that 
nine  miles.  They  were  bound  for  the  latter ;  their 
plan  being  that  she  should  there  take  the  train  to  the 
, junction  where  the  whip  accident  had  occurred,  claim 
her  luggage,  and  return  with  it  to  Warborne,  as  if 
from  Bath. 

The  morninor  was  cool  and  the  walk  not  wearisome. 
When  once  they  had  left  behind  the  stubble-field 
of  their  environment  and  the  parish  of  Welland,  they 
sauntered  on  comfortably.  Lady  Constantine's  spirits 
rising  as  she  withdrew  further  from  danger. 

They  parted  by  a  little  brook,  about  half  a  mile 
from  the  station  ;  Swithin  to  return  to  Welland  by  the 
way  he  had  come. 

'^  Lady  Constantine  telegraphed  from  the  junction  to 
Warborne  for  a  carriaQfe  to  be  in  readiness  to  meet  her 
on  her  arrival ;  and  then,  waiting  for  the  down  train, 
she  travelled  smoothly  home,  reaching  Welland  House 
about  five  minutes  sooner  than  Swithin  reached  the 
column  hard  by,  after  footing  it  all  the  way  from  where 
they  had  parted. 

153 


XXI 

From  that  day  forward  their  life  resumed  its  old 
channel  in  general  outward  aspect. 

Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  feature  in  their 
exploit  was  its  comparative  effectiveness  as  an  ex- 
pedient for  the  end  designed, — that  of  restoring  calm 
assiduity  to  the  study  of  astronomy.  Swithin  took  up 
his  old  position  as  the  lonely  philosopher  at  the  column, 
and  Lady  Constantine  lapsed  back  to  immured 
existence  at  the  house,  with  apparently  not  a  friend  in 
the  parish.  The  enforced  narrowness  of  life  which  her 
limited  resources  necessitated  was  now  an  additional 
safeguard  against  the  discovery  of  her  relations  with 
St.  Cleeve.  Her  neighbours  seldom  troubled  her;  as 
much,  it  must  be  owned,  from  a  tacit  understanding 
that  she  was  not  in  a  position  to  return  invitations  as 
from  any  selfish  coldness  engendered  by  her  want  of 
wealth. 

At  the  first  meeting  of  the  secretly  united  pair  after 
their  short  honeymoon  they  were  compelled  to  behave 
as  strangers  to  each  other.  It  occurred  in  the  only 
part  of  Welland  which  deserved  the  name  of  a  village 
street,  and  all  the  labourers  were  returning  to  their 
midday  meal,  with  those  of  their  wives  who  assisted  at 
outdoor  work.  Before  the  eyes  of  this  innocent  though 
quite  untrustworthy  group,  Swithin  and  his  Vivlette 
could  only  shake  hands  in  passing,  though  she  contrived 
to  say  to  him  in  an  undertone,  *  My  brother  does  not 
return  yet  for  some  time.  He  has  gone  to  Paris.  I 
will  be  on  the  lawn  this  evening,  if  you  can  come.'     It 

154 


isi 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

was  a  fluttered  smile  that  she  bestowed  on  him,  and 
there  was  no  doubt  that  every  fibre  of  her  heart 
vibrated  afresh  at  meeting,  with  such  reserve,  one  who 
stood  in  his  close  relation  to  her. 

The  shades  of  night  fell  early  now,  and  Swithin 
was  at  the  spot  of  appointment  about  the  time  that  he 
knew  her  dinner  would  be  over.  It  was  just  where 
they  had  met  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  but  many 
changes  had  resulted  since  then.  The  flower-beds 
that  had  used  to  be  so  neatly  edged  were  now  jagged 
and  leafy  ;  black  stars  appeared  on  the  pale  surface  of 
the  gravel  walks,  denoting  tufts  of  grass  that  grew 
unmolested  there.  Lady  Constantine's  external  affairs 
wore  just  that  aspect  which  suggests  that  new  blood 
may  be  advantageously  introduced  into  the  line  ;  and 
new  blood  had  been  introduced,  in  good  sooth, — 
with  what  social  result  remained  to  be  seen. 

She  silently  entered  on  the  scene  from  the  same 
window  which  had  given  her  passage  in  months  gone 
by.  They  met  with  a  concerted  embrace,  and  St. 
Cleeve  spoke  his  greeting  in  whispers. 

*  We  are  quite  safe,  dearest,'  said  she. 

*  But  the  servants  ?  ' 

*  My  meagre  staff  consists  of  only  two  women  and 
the  boy ;  and  they  are  away  in  the  other  wing.  I 
thought  you  would  like  to  see  the  inside  of  my  house, 
after  showing  me  the  inside  of  yours.  So  we  will  walk 
through  it  instead  of  staying  out  here.' 

She  let  him  in  through  the  casement,  and  they 
strolled  forward  softly,  Swithin  with  some  curiosity, 
never   before   having   gone    beyond    the    library   and 

oining  room.  The  whole  western  side  of  the  house 
was  at  this  time  shut  up,  her  life  being  confined  to  two 
or  three  small  rooms  in  the  south-east  corner.  The 
great  apartments  through  which  they  now  whisperingly 
walked  wore  already  that  funereal  aspect  that  comes 
from  disuse  and  inattention.  Triangular  cobwebs 
already  formed  little  hammocks  for  the  dust  in  corners 
of  the  wainscot,  and  a  close  smell  of  wood  and  leather, 

155 


la  ^adj 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

seasoned  with  mouse-droppings,  pervaded  the  almo*  j 
sphere.  So  seldom  was  the  solitude  of  these  chambers 
intruded  on  by  human  feet  that  more  than  once  a 
mouse  stood  and  looked  the  twain  in  the  face  from  the 
arm  of  a  sofa,  or  the  top  of  a  cabinet,  without  any 
great  fear. 

Swithin  had  no  residential  ambition  whatever,  but 
he  was  interested  in  the  place.  '  Will  the  house  ever 
be  thrown  open  to  gaiety,  as  it  was  in  old  times  .f^' 
said  he. 

'Not  unless  you  make  a  fortune,'  she  replied 
laughingly.  *  It  is  mine  for  my  life,  as  you  know  ;  but 
the  estate  is  so  terribly  saddled  with  annuities  to  Sir 
Blount's  distant  relatives,  one  of  whom  will  succeed  me 
here,  that  I  have  practically  no  more  than  my  own 
little  private  income  to  exist  on.' 

'  And  are  you  bound  to  occupy  the  house  ? ' 

*  Not  bound  to.     But  I  must  not  let  it  on  lease.* 
'  And  was  there  any  stipulation  in  the  event  of  your 

re-marriage  ? ' 

*  It  was  not  mentioned.* 

*  It  is  satisfactory  to  find  that  you  lose  nothing  by 
marrying  me,  at  all  events,  dear  Viviette.' 

'  I  hope  you  lose  nothing  either — at  least,  of  con- 
sequence.' 

'  What  have  I  to  lose  ?  * 

*  I  meant  your  liberty.  Suppose  you  become  a 
popular  physicist  (popularity  seems  cooling  towards  art 
and  coquetting  with  science  now-a-days),  and  a  better 
chance  offers,  and  one  who  would  make  you  a  newer 
and  brighter  wife  than  I  am  comes  in  your  way.  Will 
you  never  regret  this  ?     Will  you  never  despise  me  ?  ' 

Swithin  answered  by  a  kiss,  and  they  again  wenf^ 
on  ;    proceeding  like  a  couple  of  burglars,   lest  they 
should  draw  the  attention  of  the  cook  or  Green. 

In  one  of  the  upper  rooms  his  eyes  were  attracted 
by  an  old  chamber  organ,  which  had  once  been  lent 
for  use  in  the  church.  He  mentioned  his  recollection 
of  the  same,  which  led  her  to  say,  *  That  reminds  me 

IS6 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

of  something.     There  is  to  be  a  confirmation  in  our 
parish  in  the  spring,  and  you  once  told  me  that  you 
I  had  never  been  confirmed.     What  shocking  neglect ! 
Why  was  it  .-^ ' 

'  I  hardly  know.  The  confusion  resulting  from  my 
father's  death  caused  it  to  be  forgotten,  I  su[)pose.' 

*  Now,  dear  Swithin,  you  will  do  this  to  please  me, 
— be  confirmed  on  the  present  occasion  ?  ' 

*  Since  I  have  done  without  the  virtue  of  it  so  long, 
might  I  not  do  without  it  altogether  ? ' 

'  No,  no ! '  she  said  earnestly.  *  I  do  wish  it, 
indeed.  I  am  made  unhappy  when  I  think  you  don't 
care  about  such  serious  matters.  Without  the  Church 
to  cling  to,  what  have  we  ?  ' 

*  Each  other.  But  seriously,  I  should  be  inverting 
the  established  order  of  spiritual  things  ;  people  ought 
to  be  confirmed  before  they  are  married.' 

*  That's  really  of  minor  consequence.     Now,  don't 
"  think  slightingly  of  what  so  many  good  men  have  laid 

down  as  necessary  to  be  done.  And,  dear  Swithin,  I 
somehow  feel  that  a  certain  levity  which  has  perhaps 
shown  itself  in  our  treatment  of  the  sacrament  of 
marriage — by  making  a  clandestine  adventure  of  what 
is,  after  all,  a  solemn  rite — would  be  well  atoned  for 
by  a  due  seriousness  in  other  points  of  religious 
observance.  This  opportunity  should  therefore  not  be 
passed  over.  I  thought  of  it  all  last  night ;  and  you 
are  a  parson's  son,  remember,  and  he  would  have 
insisted  on  it  if  he  had  been  alive.  In  short,  Swithin, 
do  be  a  good  boy,  and  observe  the  Church's 
ordinances.' 

Lady  Constantine,  by  virtue  of  her  temperament, 
was  necessarily  either  lover  or  ddvote,  and  she  vibrated 
so  gracefully  between  these  two  conditions  that  nobody 
who  had  known  the  circumstances  could  have  con- 
demned her  inconsistencies.  To  be  led  into  difficulties 
by  those  mastering  emotions  of  hers,  to  aim  at  escape 
by  turning  round  and  seizing  the  apparatus  of  religion 
— which  could  only  rightly  be  worked  by  the  very 

157 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

emotions  already  bestowed  elsewhere — it  was,  after 
all,  but  Convention's  palpitating  attempt  to  preserve 
the  comfort  of  her  creature's  conscience  in  the  trying 
quandary  to  which  the  conditions  of  sex  had  given 
rise.  As  Viviette  could  not  be  confirmed  herself,  and 
as  Communion  Sunday  was  a  long  way  off,  she  urged 
Swithin  thus. 

*And  the  new  bishop  is  such  a  good  man,'  she 
continued.  '  I  used  to  have  a  slight  acquaintance  with 
him  when  he  was  a  parish  priest.' 

'Very  well,  dearest.  To  please  you  I'll  be  con- 
firmed. My  grandmother,  too,  will  be  delighted,  no 
doubt.' 

They  continued  their  ramble  :  Lady  Constantine 
first  advancing  into  rooms  with  the  candle,  to  assure 
herself  that  all  was  empty,  and  then  calling  him  for- 
ward in  a  whisper.  The  stillness  was  broken  only  by 
these  whispers,  or  by  the  occasional  crack  of  a  floor- 
board beneath  their  tread.  At  last  they  sat  down, 
and,  shading  the  candle  with  a  screen,  she  showed  him 
the  faded  contents  of  this  and  that  drawer  or  cabinet, 
or  the  wardrobe  of  some  member  of  the  family  who 
had  died  young  early  in  the  century,  when  muslin 
reigned  supreme,  when  waists  were  close  to  arm-pits, 
and  muffs  as  large  as  smugglers'  tubs. 

These  researches  amonor  habilimental  hulls  and 
husks,  whose  human  kernels  had  long  ago  perished, 
went  on  for  about  half  an  hour ;  when  the  companions 
were  startled  by  a  loud  ringing  at  the  front- door  bell. 


XXII 

Lady  Constantine  flung  down  the  old-fashioned 
lacework,  whose  beauties  she  had  been  pointing  out  to 
S within,  and  exclaimed,  *  Who  can  it  be  ?  Not  Louis, 
surely  ? ' 

They  listened.  An  arrival  was  such  a  phenomenon 
at  this  unfrequented  mansion,  and  particularly  a  late 
arrival,  that  no  servant  was  on  the  alert  to  respond  to 
the  call ;  and  the  visitor  rang  again,  more  loudly  than 
before.  Sounds  of  the  tardy  opening  and  shutting  of 
a  passage-door  from  the  kitchen  quarter  then  reached 
their  ears,  and  Viviette  went  into  the  corridor  to 
hearken  more  attentively.  In  a  few  minutes  she 
returned  to  the  wardrobe-room  in  which  she  had  left 
Swithin. 

'  Yes  ;  it  is  my  brother ! '  she  said  with  difficult 
composure.  '  I  just  caught  his  voice.  He  has  no 
doubt  come  back  from  Paris  to  stay.  This  is  a  rather 
vexatious,  indolent  way  he  has,  never  to  write  to 
prepare  me ! ' 

'  I  can  easily  go  away,'  said  Swithin. 

By   this    time,   however,   her    brother    had    been 
shown    into    the    house,    and    the    footsteps    of    the 
I  page  were  audible,   coming  in  search  of   Lady  Con- 
stantine. 

'  If  you  will  wait  there  a  moment,'  she  said, 
directing  St.  Cleeve  into  her  bedchamber  which 
adjoined  ;  '  you  will  be  quite  safe  from  interruption, 
and  I  will  quickly  come  back.'  Taking  the  light  she 
left  him. 

159 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

S within  waited  in  darkness.  Not  more  than  ten 
minutes  had  passed  when  a  whisper  in  her  voice  came 
through  the  keyhole.      He  opened  the  door. 

'Yes;  he  is  come  to  stay!'  she  said.  *  He  is  at 
supper  now.' 

'  Very  well ;  don't  be  flurried,  dearest.  Shall  I 
stay  too,  as  we  planned  ? ' 

*  O,  Swithin,  I  fear  not ! '  she  replied  anxiously. 
'You  see  how  it  is.  To-night  we  have  broken  the 
arrangement  that  you  should  never  come  here ;  and 
this  is  the  result.  Will  it  offend  you  if — I  ask  you 
to  leave  ? ' 

*  Not  in  the  least.  Upon  the  whole,  I  prefer  the 
comfort  of  my  little  cabin  and  homestead  to  the 
gauntness  and  alarms  of  this  place.' 

'  There,  now,  I  fear  you  are  offended ! '  she  said,  a 
tear  collecting  in  her  eye.  *  I  wish  I  was  going  back 
with  you  to  the  cabin!  How  happy  we  were,  those 
three  days  of  our  stay  there  !  But  it  is  better,  perhaps, 
just  now,  that  you  should  leave  me.  Yes,  these  rooms ; 
are  oppressive.  They  require  a  large  household  to 
make  them  cheerful.  .  .  .  Yet,  Swithin,'  she  added, 
after  reflection,  *  I  will  not  request  you  to  go.  Do  as 
you  think  best.  I  will  light  a  night-light,  and  leave 
you  here  to  consider.  For  myself,  I  must  go  down- 
stairs to  my  brother  at  once,  or  he'll  wonder  what  I 
am  doing.' 

She  kindled   the  little  light,   and  again  retreated, , 
closing  the  door  upon  him. 

Swithin   sat  and    waited  some  time  ;    till  he  con- 
sidered that  upon  the  whole  it  would  be  preferable  to ) 
leave.     With    this    intention    he    emerged    and    went 
softly  along  the  dark  passage    towards    the   extreme 
end,   where  there  was  a  little   crooked   staircase   that 
would    conduct   him    down    to   a   disused    side    door. , 
Descending  this   stair   he   duly  arrived   at    the  other 
side  of  the  house,  facing  the  quarter  whence  the  wind  1 
blew,  and  here  he  was  surprised   to  catch  the  noise 
of  rain  beating  against  the  windows.     It  was  a  state 

1 60 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

of  weather    which    fully    accounted    for    the    visitor's 
impatient  ringing. 

St.  Cleeve  was  in  a  minor  kind  of  dilemma.  The 
rain  reminded  him  that  his  hat  and  great-coat  had 
been  left  downstairs,  in  the  front  part  of  the  house  ; 
and  though  he  might  have  gone  home  without  either 
in  ordinary  weather  it  was  not  a  pleasant  feat  in  the 
pelting  winter  rain.  Retracing  his  steps  to  Viviette's 
room  he  took  the  light,  and  opened  a  closet-door  that 
he  had  seen  ajar  on  his  way  down.  Within  the  closet 
hung  various  articles  of  apparel,  upholstery  lumber  of 
all  kinds  filling  the  back  part.  Swithin  thought  he 
might  find  here  a  cloak  of  hers  to  throw  round  him, 
but  finally  took  down  from  a  peg  a  more  suitable 
garment,  the  only  one  of  the  sort  that  was  there.  It 
was  an  old  moth-eaten  great-coat,  heavily  trimmed 
with  fur ;  and  in  removing  it  a  companion  cap  of  seal- 
skin was  disclosed. 

*  Whose  can  they  be  ? '  he  thought,  and  a  gloomy 
answer  suggested  itself.  *  Pooh,'  he  then  said  (sum- 
moning the  scientific  side  of  his  nature),  *  matter  is 
matter,  and  mental  association  only  a  delusion.' 
Putting  on  the  garments  he  returned  the  light  to  Lady 
Constantine's  bedroom,  and  again  prepared  to  depart 
as  before. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  he  regained  the  corridor  a 
second  time,  when  he  heard  a  light  footstep — seemingly 
Viviette's — again  on  the  front  landing.  Wondering 
what  she  wanted  with  him  further  he  waited,  taking 
the  precaution  to  step  into  the  closet  till  sure  it 
was  she. 

The  figure  came  onward,  bent  to  the  keyhole  of 
the  bedroom  door,  and  whispered  (supposing  him  still 
inside),  '  Swithin,  on  second  thoughts  I  think  you  may 
stay  with  safety.' 

Having  no  further  doubt  of  her  personality  he 
came  out  with  thoughtless  abruptness  from  the  closet 
behind  her,  and  looking  round  suddenly  she  beheld 
his  shadowy  fur-clad  outline.     At  once  she  raised  her 

i6i 


I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

hands  in  horror,  as  if  to  protect  herself  from  him ;  she 
uttered  a  shriek,  and  turned  shudderingly  to  the  wall, 
covering  her  face.  | 

Swithin  would  have  picked  her  up  in  a  moment,  I 
but  by  this  time  he  could  hear  footsteps  rushing  up-  : 
stairs,  in  response  to  her  cry.  In  consternation,  and  | 
with  a  view  of  not  compromising  her,  he  effected  his  '^ 
retreat  as  fast  as  possible,  reaching  the  bend  of  the  ,: 
corridor  just  as  her  brother  Louis  appeared  with  a  I 
light  at  the  other  extremity.  I 

'What's  the  matter,  for  heaven's  sake,  Vivlette?* 
said  Louis. 

'  My  husband ! '  she  involuntarily  exclaimed. 

*  What  nonsense  ! ' 
*0  yes,  it  is  nonsense,'  she  added,  with  an  effort. 

*  It  was  nothing.'  ^ 

'  But  what  was  the  cause  of  your  cry  ? '  f 

She  had  by  this  time  recovered  her  reason  and 
judgment.  '  O,  it  was  a  trick  of  the  imagination,'  she 
said,  with  a  faint  laugh.  '  I  live  so  much  alone  that  I 
get  superstitious — and — I  thought  for  the  moment  I 
saw  an  apparition.'  x 

'  Of  your  late  husband  }'  9 

*  Yes.  But  it  was  nothing ;  it  was  the  outline  of 
the — tall  clock  and  the  chair  behind.  Would  you 
mind  going  down,  and  leaving  me  to  go  into  my  room 
for  a  moment  ? ' 

She  entered  the  bedroom,  and  her  brother  went 
downstairs.  Swithin  thought  it  best  to  leave  well 
alone,  and  going  noiselessly  out  of  the  house  plodded 
through  the  rain  homeward.  It  was  plain  that  agita- 
tions of  one  sort  and  another  had  so  weakened 
Viviette's  nerves  as  to  lay  her  open  to  every  impres- 
sion. That  the  clothes  he  had  borrowed  were  some 
cast-off  garments  of  the  late  Sir  Blount  had  occurred 
to  St.  Cleeve  in  taking  them  ;  but  in  the  moment  of 
returning  to  her  side  he  had  forgotten  this,  and  the 
shape  they  gave  to  his  figure  had  obviously  been  a 
reminder  of  too  sudden  a  sort  for  her.     Musing  thus 

162 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

he  walked  along  as  if  he  were  still,  as  before,  the 
lonely  student,  dissociated  from  all  mankind,  and  with 
no  shadow  of  right  or  interest  in  Welland  House  or 
its  mistress. 

The  great-coat  and  cap  were  unpleasant  com- 
panions ;  but  Swithin  having  been  reared,  or  having 
reared  himself,  in  the  scientific  school  of  thought, 
would  not  give  way  to  his  sense  of  their  weirdness. 
To  do  so  would  have  been  treason  to  his  own  beliefs 
and  aims. 

When  nearly  home,  at  a  point  where  his  track 
converged  on  another  path,  there  approached  him 
from  the  latter  a  group  of  indistinct  forms.  The  tones 
of  their  speech  revealed  them  to  be  Hezzy  Biles, 
Nat  Chapman,  Fry,  and  other  labourers.  Swithin 
was  about  to  say  a  word  to  them,  till  recollecting  his 
disguise  he  deemed  it  advisable  to  hold  his  tongue, 
lest  his  attire  should  tell  a  too  dangerous  tale  as  to 
where  he  had  come  from.  By  degrees  they  drew 
closer,  their  walk  being  in  the  same  direction. 

'Good-night,  strainger,'  said  Nat. 

The  stranger  did  not  reply. 

All  of  them  paced  on  abreast  of  him,  and  he  could 
perceive  in  the  gloom  that  their  faces  were  turned 
inquiringly  upon  his  form.  Then  a  whisper  passed 
from  one  to  another  of  them ;  then  Chapman,  who 
was  the  boldest,  dropped  immediately  behind  his 
heels,  and  followed  there  for  some  distance,  taking 
close  observations  of  his  outline,  after  which  the 
men  grouped  again  and  whispered.  Thinking  it  best 
to  let  them  pass  on  Swithin  slackened  his  pace,  and 

tthey  went  ahead  of  him,  apparently  without  much 
reluctance. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  they  had  been  impressed 
by  the  clothes  he  wore ;  and  having  no  wish  to 
provoke  similar  comments  from  his  grandmother  and 
Hannah,  Swithin  took  the  precaution,  on  arriving  at 
Welland  Bottom,  to  enter  the  homestead  by  the  out- 
house.    Here  he  deposited  the  cap  and  coat  in  secure 

163 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


I 


hiding,    afterwards    going    round    to    the    front    and 
opening  the  door  in  the  usual  way. 

In  the  entry  he  met  Hannah,  who  said — 

*  Only  to  hear  what  have  been  seed  to-night,  Mr. 
Swithin  !     The  work-folk  have  dropped  in  to  tell  us  ! ' 

In  the  kitchen  were  the  men  who  had  outstripped 
him  on  the  road.  Their  countenances,  instead  of 
wearing  the  usual  knotty  irregularities,  had  a  smoothed- 
out  expression  of  blank  concern.  Swithin's  entrance 
was  unobtrusive  and  quiet,  as  if  he  had  merely  come 
down  from  his  study  upstairs,  and  they  only  noticed 
him  by  enlarging  their  gaze,  so  as  to  include  him  in 
the  audience. 

*  We  was  in  a  deep  talk  at  the  moment,'  continued 
Blore,  *and  Natty  had  just  brought  up  that  story 
about  old  Jeremiah  Paddock's  crossing  the  park  one 
night  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  seeing  Sir 
Blount  a-shutting  my  lady  out-o'-doors  ;  and  we  was 
saying  that  it  seemed  a  true  return  that  he  should 
perish  in  a  foreign  land  ;  when  we  happened  to  look 
up,  and  there  was  Sir  Blount  a- walking  along.' 

'  Did  it  overtake  you,  or  did  you  overtake  it  ? ' 
whispered  Hannah  sepulchrally. 

*  I  don't  say  'twas  //,'  returned  Sammy.  *  God 
forbid  that  I  should  drag  in  a  resurrection  word  about 
what  perhaps  was  still  solid  manhood,  and  has  to  die ! 
But  he,  or  it,  closed  in  upon  us,  as  'twere.' 

*  Yes,  closed  in  upon  us ! '  said  Haymoss. 

*And  I  said  *' Good -night,  strainger,"*  added 
Chapman. 

'Yes,  "Good -night,  strainger,"  —  that  wez  yer 
words.  Natty.      I  support  'ee  in  it.' 

*  And  then  he  closed  in  upon  us  still  more.* 
*We  closed  in  upon  he,  rather,'  said  Chapman. 

*  Well,  well ;  'tis  the  same  thing  in  such  matters ! 
And  the  form  was  Sir  Blount's.  My  nostrils  told  me, 
for — there,  'a  smelled.  Yes,  I  could  smell  'n,  being  to 
leeward.' 

*  Lord,  lord,  what  unwholesome  scandal's  this  about 

164 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the   ghost   of   a   respectable   gentleman  ? '    said    Mrs. 
Martin,  who  had  entered  from  the  sitting-room. 

*  Now,  wait,  ma'am.  I  don't  say  'twere  a  low 
smell,  mind  ye.  'Twere  a  high  smell,  a  sort  of  gamey 
flaviour,  calling  to  mind  venison  and  hare,  just  as  you'd 
expect  of  a  great  squire, — not  like  a  poor  man's  'natomy, 
at  all ;  and  that  was  what  strengthened  my  faith  that 
'twas  Sir  Blount.' 

('The  skins  that  old  coat  was  made  of,'  ruminated 
S  within.) 

'Well,  well;  I've  not  held  out  against  the  spectre 
o'  starvation  these  five  -  and  -  twenty  year  on  nine 
shillings  a  week,  to  be  afeard  of  a  walking  vapour, 
sweet  or  savoury,'  said  Hezzy.  *  So  here's  home- 
along.' 

*  Bide  a  bit  longer,  and  I'm  going  too,'  continued 
Fry.  'Well,  when  I  found  'twas  Sir  Blount  my  spet 
dried  up  within  my  mouth  ;  for  neither  hedge  nor  bush 
were  there  for  refuge  against  any  foul  spring  'a  might 
have  made  at  us.' 

'  'Twas  very  curious ;  but  we  had  likewise  men- 
tioned his  name  just  afore,  in  talking  of  the  confirma- 
tion that's  shortly  coming  on,'  said  Hezzy. 

*  Is  there  soon  to  be  a  confirmation  ? ' 
'  Yes.     In  this  parish — the  first  time  in  Welland 

church  for  twenty  years.  As  I  say,  I  had  told  'em 
that  he  was  confirmed  the  same  year  that  I  went  up  to 
have  it  done,  as  I  have  very  good  cause  to  mind. 
When  we  went  to  be  examined,  the  pa'son  said  to  me, 
"  Rehearse  the  articles  of  thy  belief."  Mr.  Blount  (as 
he  was  then)  was  nighest  me,  and  he  whispered, 
** Women  and  wine."  "Women  and  wine,"  says  I  to 
me  pa'son  :  and  for  that  I  was  sent  back  till  next  con- 
firmation. Sir  Blount  never  owning  that  he  was  the 
rascal.' 

'  Confirmation  was  a  sight  different  at  that  time,' 
mused  Biles.  *  The  Bishops  didn't  lay  it  on  so  strong 
then  as  they  do  now.  Now-a-days,  yer  Bishop  gives 
both  hands  to  every  Jack -rag  and   Tom -straw   that 

165 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

drops  the  knee  afore  him  ;  but  'twas  six  chaps  to  one  I 
blessing  when  we  was  boys.  The  Bishop  o'  that  time 
would  stretch  out  his  palms  and  run  his  fingers  over 
our  row  of  crowns  as  off-hand  as  a  bank  gentleman 
telling  money  or  a  thimble-rigger  at  a  fair.  The  great 
lords  of  the  Church  in  them  days  wasn't  particular  to  a 
soul  or  two  more  or  less  ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  think 
living  was  easier  for  't.' 

'  The  new  Bishop,  I  hear,  is  a  bachelor-man  ;  or  a 
widow  gentleman  is  it  ? '  asked  Mrs.  Martin. 

'  Bachelor,    I    believe,    ma'am.      Mr.    San    Cleeve, 
making  so  bold,  you've  never  faced  him  yet,  I  think  ? ' 

Mrs.  Martin  shook  her  head. 

'  No  ;   it  was  a  piece  of  neglect.     I  hardly  know 
how  it  happened,'  she  said. 

'  I  am  going  to,  this  time,'  said  Swithin  and  turned 
the  chat  to  other  matters. 


3 

'ft 
^ 


i^i 


XXIII 

SwiTHiN  could  not  sleep  that  night  for  thinking  of 
his  Viviette.  Nothing  told  so  significantly  of  the  con- 
duct of  her  first  husband  towards  the  poor  lady  as  the 
abiding  dread  of  him  which  was  revealed  in  her  by 
any  sudden  revival  of  his  image  or  memory.  But 
for  that  consideration  her  almost  childlike  terror 
at  Swithin's  inadvertent  disguise  would  have  been 
'ludicrous. 

He  waited  anxiously  through  several  following 
days  for  an  opportunity  of  seeing  her,  but  none  was 
afforded.  Her  brother's  presence  In  the  house  suffi- 
ciently accounted  for  this.  At  length  he  ventured  to 
write  a  note,  requesting  her  to  signal  to  him  In  a  way 
she  had  done  once  or  twice  before, — by  pulling  down  a 
blind  In  a  particular  window  of  the  house,  one  of  the 
few  visible  from  the  top  of  the  Rings- Hill  column  ;  this 
to  be  done  on  any  evening  when  she  could  see  him 
after  dinner  on  the  terrace. 

When  he  had  levelled  the  glass  at  that  window  for 
five  successive  nights  he  beheld  the  blind  in  the  posi- 
tion suggested.  Three  hours  later,  quite  In  the  dusk, 
ijhe  repaired  to  the  place  of  appointment. 

'  My  brother  is  away  this  evening,'  she  explained, 
'  and  that's  why  I  can  come  out.  He  Is  only  gone  for  a 
few  hours,  nor  is  he  likely  to  go  for  longer  just  yet,  for 
he's  no  money.  He  keeps  himself  a  good  deal  in  my 
company,  which  has  made  it  unsafe  for  me  to  venture 
near  you.' 

*  Has  he  any  suspicion  ?  * 

167 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  None,  apparently.     But  he  rather  depresses  me.* 
'How,     Viviette?'       Swithin     feared,     from    her 

manner,  that  this  was  something  serious. 
"^"^^    '  I  would  rather  not  tell.' 

*  But —     Well,  never  mind.' 

*  Yes,  Swithin,  I  will  tell  you.  There  should  be 
no  secrets  between  us.  He  urges  upon  me  the 
necessity  of  marrying,  day  after  day.' 

'  For  money  and  position,  of  course.' 

*  Yes.     But  I  take  no  notice.     I  let  him  go  on.* 

*  Really,  this  is  sad ! '  said  the  young  man.  *  I 
must  work  harder  than  ever,  or  you  will  never  be  able 
to  own  me.' 

*  O  yes,  in  good  time ! '  she  cheeringly  replied. 

*  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  you  always  near 
me.  I  felt  the  gloom  of  our  position  keenly  when 
I  was  obliged  to  disappear  that  night,  without 
assuring  you  it  was  only  I  who  stood  there. 
Why  were  you  so  frightened  at  those  old  clothes  I 
borrowed  ? ' 

'  Don't  ask, — don't  ask ! '  she  said,  burying  her 
face  on  his  shoulder.  '  I  don't  want  to  speak 
of  that.  There  was  something  so  ghastly  and  so 
uncanny  in  your  putting  on  such  garments  that  I 
wish  you  had  been  more  thoughtful,  and  had  left 
them  alone.' 

He  assured  her  that  he  did  not  stop  to  consider  I 
whose  they  were.     *  By  the  way,  they  must  be  sent 
back,'  he  said.  I 

*  No  ;  I  never  wish  to  see  them  again !  I  cannot 
help  feeling  that  your  putting  them  on  was  ominous.' 

*  Nothing  is  ominous  in  serene  philosophy,'  he  said,  ,| 
kissing  her.  *  Things  are  either  causes,  or  they  are  ^ 
not  causes.     When  can  you  see  me  again  ?  ' 

In  such  wise  the  hour  passed  away.     The  evening; 
was   typical   of  others  which   followed   it  at  irregular' 
intervals  through  the  winter.     And  during  the  intenser  I 
months  of  the  season  frequent  falls  of  snow  lengthened,  I 
even  more  than  other  difficulties  had  done,  the  period^  " 

i68 


tie 

101 

en 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

of  isolation  between  tlie  pair.  Svvithin  adhered  with 
all  the  more  strictness  to  the  letter  of  his  promise  not 
to  intrude  into  the  house,  from  his  sense  of  her  power- 
lessness  to  compel  him  to  keep  out  should  he  choose 
to  rebel.  A  student  of  the  greatest  forces  in  nature, 
he  had,  like  many  others  of  his  sort,  no  personal  force 
to  speak  of  in  a  social  point  of  view,  mainly  because 
he  took  no  interest  in  human  ranks  and  formulas  ;  and 
hence  he  was  as  docile  as  a  child  in  her  hands  wherever 
matters  of  that  kind  were  concerned. 

Her  brother  wintered   at    Welland ;   but   whether 
because  his  experience  of  tropic  climes  had  unfitted 
him   for  the   brumal  rigours  of   Britain,    or  for  some 
other  reason,  he  seldom  showed  himself  out  of  doors, 
and  Swithin  caught  but  passing  glimpses  of  him.     Now 
and  then  Viviette  managed  to  pay  a  hasty  visit  to  the 
hut ;  and  at  other  times  her  impulsive  affection  would 
overcome   her   sense    of   risk,    and    she    would    press 
Swithin  to  call  on  her  at  all  costs.     This  he  would  by 
no  means    do.      It  was   obvious   to   his   more   locrical 
li(||mind  that  the  secrecy  to  which  they  had  bound  them- 
selves must  be  kept  in  its  fulness,  or  might  as  well  be 
abandoned  altogether. 
It  I       He  was  now  sadly  exercised  on  the  subject  of  his 
leijuncle's    will.     There    had    as    yet    been    no   pressing 
reasons  for  a  full  and  candid  reply  to  the  solicitor  who 
had  communicated  with  him,  owing  to  the   fact  that 
the  payments  were  not  to  begin  till  Swithin  was  one- 
nd-twenty  ;  but   time  was  going  on,  and   something 
efinite  would  have  to  be  done  soon.     To  own  to  his 
arriage  and  consequent  disqualification   for  the   be- 
uest  was  easy  in  itself ;  but  it  involved  telling  at  least 
ne  man  what   both   Viviette  and   himself  had  great 
eluctance   in   telling  anybody.     Moreover  he  wished 
Viviette  to  know  nothing  of  his  loss  in  making  her  his 
tvife.     All  he  could  think  of  doing  for  the  present  was 
:o  write  a  postponing  letter  to  his  uncle's  lawyer,  and 
A^ait  events. 

The  one  practical  comfort  of  this  dreary  winter- 

169 


se" 


!niri! 
enefl 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

time  was  his  perception  of  a  returning  ability  to  work 
with  the  regularity  and  much  of  the  spirit  of  earlier 
days. 

One  bright  night  in  April  there  was  an  eclipse  of 
the  moon,  and  Mr.  Torkingham,  by  arrangement, 
brought  to  the  observatory  several  labouring  men  and 
boys,  to  whom  he  had  promised  a  sight  of  the  pheno- 
menon through  the  telescope.  The  coming  confirma- 
tion, fixed  for  May,  w^as  again  talked  of;  and  St. 
Cleeve  learnt  from  the  parson  that  the  Bishop  had 
arranged  to  stay  the  night  at  the  vicarage,  and  was  to 
be  invited  to  a  grand  luncheon  at  Welland  House 
immediately  after  the  ordinance. 

This  seemed  like  a  going  back  into  life  again  as 
regarded  the  mistress  of  that  house  ;  and  St.  Cleeve 
was  a  little  surprised  that,  in  his  communications  with 
Viviette,  she  had  mentioned  no  such  probability.  The 
next  day  he  walked  round  the  mansion,  wondering  how 
in  its  present  state  any  entertainment  could  be  given 
therein. 

He  found  that  the  shutters  had  been  opened,  which 
had  restored  an  unexpected  liveliness  to  the  aspect  of 
the  windows.  Two  men  were  putting  a  chimney-pot 
on  one  of  the  chimney-stacks,  and  two  more  were 
scraping  green  mould  from  the  front  wall.  He  made 
no  inquiries  on  that  occasion.  Three  days  later  he 
strolled  thitherward  again.  Now  a  great  cleaning  of 
window-panes  was  going  on,  Hezzy  Biles  and  Sammy 
Blore  being  the  operators,  for  which  purpose  their 
services  must  have  been  borrowed  from  the  neighbour- 
ing farmer.  Hezzy  dashed  water  at  the  glass  with  a 
force  that  threatened  to  break  it  in,  the  broad  face  of  ^ 
Sammy  being  discernible  inside,  smiling  at  the  onset. 
In  addition  to  these,  Anthony  Green  and  another  were 
weeding  the  gravel  walks,  and  putting  fresh  plants 
into  the  flower-beds.  Neither  of  these  reasonable 
operations  was  a  great  undertaking,  singly  looked  at ; 
but  the  life  Viviette  had  latterly  led  and  the  mood  in  i 

170 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

which  she  had  hitherto  regarded  the  premises,  rendered 
it  somewhat  significant.  Swithin,  however,  was  rather 
curious  than  concerned  at  the  proceedings,  and  returned 
to  his  tower  with  feelings  of  interest  not  entirely  con- 
fined to  the  worlds  overhead. 

Lady  Constantine  may  or  may  not  have  seen  him 
from  the  house  ;  but  the  same  evening,  which  was  fine 
and  dry,  while  he  was  occupying  himself  in  the  obser- 
vatory with  cleaning  the  eye-pieces  of  the  equatorial, 
skull-cap  on  head,  observing-jacket  on,  and  in  other 
ways  primed  for  sweeping,  the  customary  stealthy  step 
'^  on  the  winding  staircase  brought  her  form  in  due 
^  course  into  the  rays  of  the  bull's-eye  lantern.  The 
meeting  was  all  the  more  pleasant  to  him  from  being 
unexpected,  and  he  at  once  lit  up  a  larger  lamp  in 
honour  of  the  occasion. 

'  It  is  but  a  hasty  visit,'  she  said  when,  after  putting 
rij  up  her  mouth  to  be  kissed,  she  had  seated  herself  in 
the  low  chair  used  for  observations,  panting  a  little 
with  the  labour  of  ascent.  *  But  I  hope  to  be  able  to 
come  more  freely  soon.  My  brother  is  still  living  on 
with  me.  Yes,  he  is  going  to  stay  until  the  confirma- 
tion is  over.  After  the  confirmation  he  will  certainly 
leave.  So  good  it  is  of  you,  dear,  to  please  me  by 
agreeing  to  the  ceremony.  The  Bishop,  you  know, 
lallis  going  to  lunch  with  us.  It  is  a  wonder  he  has 
r  fljpromised  to  come,  for  he  is  a  man  averse  to  society, 
and  mostly  keeps  entirely  with  the  clergy  on  these  con- 
firmation tours,  or  circuits,  or  whatever  they  call  them. 
But  Mr.  Torkingham's  house  is  so  very  small,  and 
mine  is  so  close  at  hand,  that  this  arrangement  to 
.„  relieve  him  of  the  fuss  of  one  meal,  at  least,  naturally 
ce  suggested  itself;  and  the  Bishop  has  fallen  in  with  it 
iiisi  very  readily.  How  are  you  getting  on  with  your 
we  observations  ?  Have  you  not  wanted  me  dreadfully, 
ibi   to  write  down  notes  ?  ' 

nal  'Well,   I   have  been  obliged  to  do  without  you, 

jj   whether  or  no.     See  here, — how  much  I  have  done.' 


m 

tllK 

m 


And  he  showed  her  a  book  ruled  in  columns,  headed 

171 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Object,'  *  Right  Ascension,  '  Declination,'  *  Features,' 

*  Remarks,'  and  so  on. 

She  looked  over  this  and  other  things,  but  her 
mind  speedily  winged  its  way  back  to  the  confirmation. 
'  It  is  so  new  to  me,'  she  said,  '  to  have  persons  coming 
to  the  house,  that  I  feel  rather  anxious.  I  hope  the 
luncheon  will  be  a  success.' 

'  You  know  the  Bishop  ? '  said  Swithin. 

*  I  have  not  seen  him  for  many  years.  I  knew 
him  when  I  was  quite  a  girl,  and  he  held  the  little 
living  of  Puddle-sub- Mixen,  near  us ;  but  after  that 
time,  and  ever  since  I  have  lived  here,  I  have  seen 
nothing  of  him.  There  has  been  no  confirmation  in 
this  village,  they  say,  for  twenty  years.  The  other 
bishop  used  to  make  the  young  men  and  women 
g-o  to  Warborne ;  he  wouldn't  take  the  trouble  to 
come  to  such  an  out-of-the-way  parish  as  ours.' 

*  This  cleaning  and  preparation  that  I  observe 
going  on  must  be  rather  a  tax  upon  you  ?  ' 

*  My  brother  Louis  sees  to  it,  and,  what  is  more, 
bears  the  expense.' 

*  Your  brother  ?  '  said  Swithin,  with  surprise. 

*  Well,  he  insisted  on  doing  so,'  she  replied,  in  a 
hesitating,  despondent  tone.  *  Though  he  had  to 
borrow  the  money  for  it.  He  has  been  active  in  the 
whole  matter,  and  was  the  first  to  suggest  the  invita- 
tion.     I  should  not  have  thought  of  it.' 

*  Well,  I  will  hold  aloof  till  it  is  all  over.' 

*  Thanks,  dearest,  for  your  considerateness.  I 
wish  it  was  not  still  advisable !  But  I  shall  see 
you  on  the  day,  and  watch  my  own  philosopher  all 
through  the  service  from  the  corner  of  my  pew! 
.  .  .  I  hope  you  are  well  prepared  for  the  rite, 
Swithin?'  she  added,  turning  tenderly  to  him.  'It 
would  perhaps  be  advisable  for  you  to  give  up  this 
astronomy  till  the  confirmation  is  over,  in  order  to 
devote  your  attention  exclusively  to  that  more  serious 
matter.' 

*  More  serious !     Well,   I  will   do  the  best   I  can. 

172 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

I    am    sorry    to    see    that  you   are    less  interested   in 
astronomy  than  you  used  to  be,  Viviette.' 

*  No ;  it  is  only  that  these  preparations  for  the 
Bishop  unsettle  my  mind  from  study.  Now  put 
on  your  other  coat  and  hat,  and  come  with  m*»  a 
little  way. 


L 


XXIV 

The  morning  of  the  confirmation  was  come.  It  was 
mid- May  time,  bringing  with  it  weather  not,  perhaps, 
quite  so  blooming  as  that  assumed  to  be  natural  to 
the  month  by  the  joyous  poets  of  three  hundred  years 
ago  ;  but  a  very  tolerable,  well-wearing  May,  that  the 
average  rustic  would  willingly  have  compounded  for  in 
lieu  of  Mays  occasionally  fairer,  but  usually  more  foul. 

Among  the  larger  shrubs  and  flowers  which  com- 
posed the  outworks  of  the  Welland  gardens,  the  lilac, 
the  laburnum,  and  the  guelder-rose  hung  out  their 
respective  colours  of  purple,  yellow,  and  white  ;  whilst 
within  these,  belted  round  from  every  disturbing  gale, 
rose  the  columbine,  the  peony,  the  larkspur,  and  the 
Solomon's  seal.  The  animate  things  that  moved  amid 
this  scene  of  colour  were  plodding  bees,  gadding 
butterflies,  and  numerous  sauntering  young  feminine 
candidates  for  the  impending  confirmation,  who,  having ' 
gaily  bedecked  themselves  for  the  ceremony,  were 
enjoying  their  own  appearance  by  walking  about  im 
twos  and  threes  till  it  was  time  to  start. 

Swithin  St.  Cleeve,  whose  preparations  were  some- 
what simpler  than  those  of  the  village  belles,  waited  till . 
his  grandmother  and  Hannah  had  set  out,  and  then, 
locking  the  door,  followed  towards  the  distant  church. 
On  reaching  the  churchyard  gate  he  met  Mr.  Torking- 
ham,  who  shook  hands  with  him  in  the  manner  of  a 
man  with  several  irons  in  the  fire,  and  telling  Swithin 
where  to  sit,  disappeared  to  hunt  up  some  candidates 
who  had  not  yet  made  themselves  visible. 

174 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Casting  his  eyes  round  for  VIvIette,  and  seeing 
nothing  of  her,  Swithin  went  on  to  the  church  porch 
and  looked  in.  From  the  north  side  of  the  nave 
smiled  a  host  of  girls,  gaily  uniform  In  dress,  age,  and 
a  temporary  repression  of  their  natural  tendency  to 
*  skip  like  a  hare  over  the  meshes  of  good  counsel.' 
Their  white  muslin  dresses,  their  round  white  caps, 
from  beneath  whose  borders  hair-knots  and  curls  of 
various  shades  of  brown  escaped  upon  their  low 
shoulders,  as  if  against  their  will,  lighted  up  the  dark 
pews  and  grey  stone- work  to  an  unwonted  warmth 
and  life.  On  the  south  side  were  the  young  men 
and  boys, — heavy,  angular,  and  massive,  as  indeed 
was  rather  necessary,  considering  what  they  would 
have  to  bear  at  the  hands  of  wind  and  weather  before 
they  returned  to  that  mouldy  nave  for  the  last  time. 

Over  the  heads  of  all  these  he  could  see  Into  the 
chancel  to  the  square  pew  on  the  north  side,  which 
was  attached  to  Welland  House.  There  he  discerned 
Lady  Constantlne  already  arrived,  her  brother  Louis 
sitting  by  her  side. 

Swithin  entered  and  seated  himself  at  the  end  of 
a  bench,  and  she,  who  had  been  on  the  watch,  at  once 
showed  by  subtle  signs  her  consciousness  of  the  presence 
of  the  young  man  who  had  reversed  the  ordained 
sequence  of  the  Church  services  on  her  account. 
She  appeared  in  black  attire,  though  not  strictly  in 
mourning,  a  touch  of  red  in  her  bonnet  setting  off 
the  richness  of  her  complexion  without  making  her 
gay.  Handsomest  woman  in  the  church  she  decidedly 
was  ;  and  yet  a  disinterested  spectator  who  had  known 
all  the  circumstances  would  probably  have  felt  that, 
^the  future  considered,  Swithin's  more  natural  mate 
would  have  been  one  of  the  muslin-clad  maidens  who 
w^ere  to  be  presented  to  the  Bishop  with  him  that  day. 

When  the  Bishop  had  arrived  and  gone  into  the 
chancel,  and  blown  his  nose,  the  congregation  were 
sufficiently  impressed  by  his  presence  to  leave  off 
looking  at  one  another. 

175 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  Right  Reverend  Cuthbert  Helmsdale,  D.D., 
ninety-fourth  occupant  of  the  episcopal  throne  of  the 
diocese,  revealed  himself  to  be  a  personage  of  dark 
complexion,  whose  darkness  was  thrown  still  further 
into  prominence  by  the  lawn  protuberances  that  now 
rose  upon  his  two  shoulders  like  the  Eastern  and 
Western  hemispheres.  In  stature  he  seemed  to  be 
tall  and  imposing,  but  something  of  this  aspect  may 
have  been  derived  from  his  robes. 

The  service  was,  as  usual,  of  a  length  which 
severely  tried  the  tarrying  powers  of  the  young  people 
assembled  ;  and  it  was  not  till  the  youth  of  all  the 
other  parishes  had  gone  up  that  the  turn  came  for  the 
Welland  bevy.  Swithin  and  some  older  ones  were 
nearly  the  last.  When,  at  the  heels  of  Mr.  Torking- 
ham,  he  passed  Lady  Constantine's  pew,  he  lifted  his 
eyes  from  the  red  lining  of  that  gentleman's  hood 
sufficiently  high  to  catch  hers.  She  was  abstracted, 
tearful, — regarding  him  with  all  the  rapt  mingling  of 
religion,  love,  fervour,  and  hope  which  such  women 
can  feel  at  such  times,  and  which  men  know  nothing 
of.  How  fervidly  she  watched  the  Bishop  place  his 
hand  on  her  beloved  youth's  head  ;  how  she  saw  the 
great  episcopal  ring  glistening  in  the  sun  among 
Swithin's  brown  curls  ;  how  she  waited  to  hear  if  Dr. 
Helmsdale  uttered  the  form  '  this  thy  child'  which  he 
used  for  the  younger  ones,  or  '  this  thy  servant '  which 
he  used  for  those  older  ;  and  how,  when  he  said  '  this 
thy  child'  she  felt  a  prick  of  conscience,  like  a  person 
who  had  entrapped  an  innocent  youth  into  marriage 
for  her  own  gratification,  till  she  remembered  that  she 
had  raised  his  social  position  thereby, — all  this  could 
only  have  been  told  in  its  entirety  by  herself. 

As  for  Swithin,  he  felt  ashamed  of  his  own  utter 
lack  of  the  high  enthusiasm  which  beamed  so 
eloquently  from  her  eyes.  When  he  passed  her 
again,  on  the  return  journey  from  the  Bishop  to  his 
seat,  her  face  was  warm  with  a  blush  which  her  brother 
might  have  observed  had  he  regarded  her. 

176 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Whether  he  had  observed  it  or  not,  as  soon  as 
St.  Cleeve  had  sat  himself  down  again  Louis  Glanville 
turned  and  looked  hard  at  the  young  astronomer. 
This  was  the  first  time  that  St.  Cleeve  and  Viviette's 
brother  had  been  face  to  face  in  a  distinct  light,  their 
first  meeting  having  occurred  in  the  dusk  of  a  railway- 
station.  Swithin  was  not  in  the  habit  of  noticing 
people's  features  ;  he  scarcely  ever  observed  any  detail 
of  physiognomy  in  his  friends,  a  generalization  from 
their  whole  aspect  forming  his  idea  of  them  ;  and  he 
now  only  noted  a  man  of  perhaps  thirty,  who  lolled 
a  good  deal,  and  in  whose  small  dark  eyes  seemed 
to  be  concentrated  the  activity  that  the  rest  of  his 
frame  decidedly  lacked.  This  gentleman's  eyes  were 
henceforward,  to  the  end  of  the  service,  continually 
fixed  upon  Swithin ;  but  as  this  was  their  natural 
direction,  from  the  position  of  his  seat,  there  was  no 
great  strangeness  in  the  circumstance. 

Swithin  wanted  to  say  to  Viviette,  *  Now  I  hope 
le:,  you  are  pleased  ;  I  have  conformed  to  your  ideas  of  my 
duty,  leaving  my  fitness  out  of  consideration ' ;  but  as 
he  could  only  see  her  bonnet  and  forehead  it  was  not 
possible  even  to  look  the  intelligence.  He  turned  more 
to  the  left,  where  the  organ  stood,  with  Miss  Tabitha 
Lark  seated  behind  it. 

It  being  now  sermon-time  the  youthful  blower  had 
fallen  asleep  over  the  handle  of  his  bellows,  and 
Tabitha  pulled  out  her  handkerchief  intending  to  flap 
him  awake  with  it.  With  the  handkerchief  tumbled 
out  a  whole  family  of  unexpected  articles  :  a  silver 
thimble  ;  a  photograph  ;  a  little  purse  ;  a  scent-bottle  ; 
some  loose  halfpence  ;  nine  green  gooseberries  ;  a  key. 
They  rolled  to  Swithin's  feet,  and,  passively  obeying 
his  first  instinct,  he  picked  up  as  many  of  the  articles 
as  he  could  find,  and  handed  them  to  her  amid  the 
smiles  of  the  neighbours. 

Tabitha  was  half-dead  with  humiliation  at  such  an 
event  happening  under  the  very  eyes  of  the  Bishop 
on  this  glorious  occasion  ;  she  turned  pale  as  a  sheet, 

177 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  could  hardly  keep  her  seat.     Fearing  she  might 
faint  Swithin,    who  had  genuinely  sympathized,   bent 
over  and   whispered    encouragingly,    '  Don't  mind    it, 
Tabitha.     Shall  I  take  you  out  into  the  air  ? '     She  , 
declined  his  offer,  and  presently  the  sermon  came  to  > 
an  end. 

Swithin  lingered  behind  the  rest  of  the  congregation  \ 
sufficiently  long  to  see  Lady  Constantine,  accompanied  ! 
by  her  brother,  the  Bishop,  the  Bishop's  chaplain,  Mr. 
Torkingham,  and  several  other  clergy  and  ladies,  cross 
the  churchyard  and  enter  to  the  luncheon  in  Welland 
House  ;  the  whole  group  talking  with  a  vivacity  all  the 
more  intense,  as  it  seemed,  from  the  recent  two  hours' 
enforced  repression  of  their  social  qualities  within  the 
adjacent  building. 

The  young  man  stood  till  he  was  left  quite  alone  in 
the  churchyard,  and  then  went  slowly  homeward  over 
the  hill,  perhaps  a  trifle  depressed  at  the  impossibility 
of  being  near  Viviette  in  this  her  one  day  of  gaiety, 
and  joining  in  the  conversation  of  those  who  sur- 
rounded her. 

Not  that  he  felt  much  jealousy  of  her  situation,  as 
his  wife,  in  comparison  with  his  own.  He  had  so 
clearly  understood  from  the  beginning  that,  in  the 
event  of  marriage,  their  outward  lives  were  to  run  on 
as  before,  that  to  rebel  now  would  have  been  unmanly 
in  himself  and  cruel  to  her,  by  adding  to  embarrass- 
ments that  were  great  enough  already.  His  momentary 
doubt  was  of  his  own  strength  to  achieve  sufficiently 
high  things  to  render  him,  in  relation  to  her,  other 
than  a  patronized  young  favourite,  whom  she  had 
married  at  an  immense  sacrifice  of  position.  Now,  at 
twenty,  he  was  doomed  to  isolation  even  from  a  wife ;  i 
could  it  be  that  at,  say  thirty,  he  would  be  w^elcomed 
everywhere  ?  ^ 

But  with  motion  through  the  sun  and  air  his  mood 
assumed  a  lighter  complexion,  and  on  reaching  home 
he  remembered  with  interest  that  Venus  was  in  a 
favourable  aspect  for  observation  that  afternoon. 

178 


ttU 


i 


XXV 

Meanwhile  the  interior  of  Welland  House  was 
rattling  with  the  progress  of  the  ecclesiastical  luncheon. 

The  Bishop,  who  sat  at  Lady  Constantine's  side, 
seemed  enchanted  with  her  company,  and  from  the 
beginning  she  engrossed  his  attention  almost  entirely. 
The  truth  was  that  the  circumstance  of  her  not  having 
her  whole  soul  centred  on  the  success  of  the  repast  and 
the  pleasure  of  Bishop  Helmsdale,  imparted  to  her,  in 
a  great  measure,  the  mood  to  ensure  both.  Her 
brother  Louis  it  was  who  had  laid  out  the  plan  of 
entertaining  the  Bishop,  to  which  she  had  assented 
but  indifferently.  She  was  secretly  bound  to  another, 
on  whose  career  she  had  staked  all  her  happiness. 
Having  thus  other  interests  she  evinced  to-day  the  ease 
of  one  who  hazards  nothino^  and  there  was  no  sicrn 
of  that  preoccupation  with  housewifely  contingencies 
which  so  often  makes  the  hostess  hardly  recognizable 
as  the  charming^  woman  who  o^raced  a  friend's  home 
the  day  before.  In  marrying  S within  Lady  Con- 
stantine  had  played  her  card, — recklessly,  impulsively, 
ruinously,  perhaps  ;  but  she  had  played  it ;  it  could  not 
be  withdrawn  ;  and  she  took  this  morning's  luncheon 
as  an  episode  that  could  result  in  nothing  to  her 
beyond  the  day's  entertainment. 

Hence,  by  that  power  of  indirectness  to  accomplish 
in  an  hour  what  strenuous  aiming  will  not  effect  in  a 
lifetime,  she  fascinated  the  Bishop  to  an  unprecedented 
degree.  A  bachelor,  he  rejoiced  in  the  commanding 
period  of  life  that  stretches  between  the  time  of  waning 

179 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

impulse  and  the  time  of  incipient  dotage,  when  a 
woman  can  reach  the  male  heart  neither  by  awakening 
a  young  man's  passion  nor  an  old  man's  infatuation. 
He  must  be  made  to  admire,  or  he  can  be  made  to  I 
do  nothing.  Unintentionally  that  is  how  Viviette 
operated  on  her  guest. 

Lady  Constantine,  to  external  view,  was  in  a  posi-     , 
tion  to  desire   many   things,   and  of  a  sort  to  desire     i 
them.     She   was    obviously,    by  nature,   impulsive  to    Ij 
indiscretion.      But   instead  of  exhibiting  activities   to    I 
correspond,    recently   gratified    affection    lent   to   her 
manner  just  now  a  sweet  serenity,  a  truly  Christian    I 
contentment,    which    it    puzzled    the    learned     Bishop 
exceedingly    to    find    in    a    warm   young    widow,   and    ' 
increased   his  interest  in  her  every  moment.      Thus 
matters  stood  when  the  conversation  veered  round  to    / 
the  morning's  confirmation. 

*  That  was  a  singularly  engaging  young  man  who 
came  up  among  Mr.  Torkingham's  candidates,'  said 
the  Bishop  to  her  somewhat  abruptly. 

But  abruptness  does  not  catch  a  woman  without    j 
her  wit.     '  Which  one  ? '  she  said  innocently.  [ 

*  That  youth  with  the  '*  corn-coloured  "  hair,  as  a    I 
poet  of  the  new  school  would  call  it,  who  sat  just  at 
the  side  of  the  organ.      Do  you  know  who  he  is  ? ' 

In  answering  Viviette  showed  a  little  nervousness, 
for  the  first  time  that  day. 

*0  yes.  He  is  the  son  of  an  unfortunate  gentle- 
man who  was  formerly  curate  here,  —  a  Mr.  St. 
Cleeve.' 

*  I  never  saw  a  handsomer  young  man  in  my  life,' 
said  the  Bishop.  Lady  Constantine  blushed.  *  There 
was  a  lack  of  self-consciousness,  too,  in  his  manner  of  ( 
presenting  himself,  which  very  much  won  me.  A  Mr. 
St.  Cleeve,  do  you  say?  A  curate's  son?  His  father 
must  have  been  St.  Cleeve  of  All  Angels,  whom  I 
knew.  How  comes  he  to  be  staying  on  here?  What 
is  he  doing  ?  ' 

Mr.  Torkingham,  who  kept  one  ear  on  the  Bishop 

i8o 


I  TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

all  the  lunch-time,  finding  that  Lady  Constantine  was 
not  ready  with  an  answer,  hastened  to  reply  :  '  Your 
lordship  is  right.  His  father  was  an  All  Angels'  man. 
The  youth  is  rather  to  be  pitied.' 

'He  was  a  man   of  talent,'  affirmed   the    Bishop. 

*  But  I  quite  lost  sight  of  him.* 

*  He  was  curate  to  the  late  vicar,'  resumed  the 
parson,  *  and  was  much  liked  by  the  parish  :  but,  being 
erratic  in  his  tastes  and  tendencies,  he  rashly  con- 
tracted a  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  a  farmer,  and 
then  quarrelled  with  the  local  gentry  for  not  taking  up 
his  wife.  This  lad  was  an  only  child.  There  was 
enough  money  to  educate  him,  and  he  is  sufficiently 
well  provided  for  to  be  independent  of  the  world  so 
long  as  he  is  content  to  live  here  with  great  economy. 
But  of  course  this  gives  him  few  opportunities  of 
bettering  himself.' 

'Yes,  naturally,'  replied  the  Bishop  of  Melchester. 

*  Better  have  been  left  entirely  dependent  on  himself. 
These  half- incomes  do  men  little  good,  unless  they 
happen  to  be  either  weaklings  or  geniuses.' 

Lady  Constantine  would  have  given  the  world  to 
say,  *  He  is  a  genius,  and  the  hope  of  my  life ' ;  but 
it  would  have  been  decidedly  risky,  and  in  another 
moment  was  unnecessary,  for  Mr.  Torkingham  said, 
'  There  is  a  certain  genius  in  this  young  man,  I  some- 
times think.* 

'Well,  he  really  looks  quite  out  of  the  common,* 
said  the  Bishop. 

*  Youthful  genius  is  sometimes  disappointing,* 
observed  Viviette,  not  believing  it  in  the  least. 

1        '  Yes,'  said  the  Bishop.      '  Though  it  depends.  Lady 

^Constantine,  on  what  you  understand  by  disappointing. 

i  It  may  produce  nothing  visible  to  the  world's  eye,  and 

yet  may  complete  its   development  within   to  a  very 

perfect  degree.      Objective  achievements,  though  the 

I  only  ones  which  are  counted,  are  not  the  only  ones 

I  that  exist  and  have  value ;  and  I  for  one  should  be 

I  I  sorry  to  assert  that,  because  a  man  of  genius  dies  as 

■  i8i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

unknown  to  the  world  as  when  he  was  born,  he  there- 
fore was  an  instance  of  wasted  material.' 

Objective  achievements  were,  however,  those  that 
Lady  Constantine  had  a  weakness  for  in  the  present  i 
case,  and  she  asked  her  more  experienced  guest  if  he 
thought  early  development  of  a  special  talent  a  good 
sign  in  youth. 

The  Bishop  thought  it  well  that  a  particular  bent  i 
should  not  show  itself  too  early,  lest  disgust  should 
result. 

'Still,'  argued  Lady  Constantine  rather  firmly  (for 
she  felt  this  opinion  of  the  Bishop's  to  be  one  throwing 
doubt  on  Swithin),  'sustained  fruition  is  compatible 
with  early  bias.  Tycho  Brahe  showed  quite  a  passion 
for  the  solar  system  when  he  was  but  a  youth,  and  so 
did  Kepler ;  and  James  Ferguson  had  a  surprising 
knowledge  of  the  stars  by  the  time  he  was  eleven  or  i 
twelve.'  ! 

*  Yes ;  sustained  fruition,'  conceded  the  Bishop  i 
(rather  liking  the  words),  '  is  certainly  compatible  with  | 
early  bias.     Fenelon  preached  at  fourteen.' 

'  He — Mr.  St.  Cleeve — is  not  in  the  church,'  said 
Lady  Constantine.  I 

*  He  is  a  scientific  young  man,  my  lord,'  explained 
Mr.  Torkingham. 

*  An  astronomer,'  she  added,  with  suppressed  pride,  j 

*  An  astronomer !       Really,    that   makes  him   still  '^ 
more  interesting  than  being  handsome  and  the  son  of 
a   man    I    knew.       How   and   where   does   he   study 
astronomy  ? ' 

*  He  has  a  beautiful  observatory.  He  has  made  ; 
use  of  an  old  column  that  was  erected  on  this  i 
manor  to  the  memory  of  one  of  the  Constantines.  . 
It  has  been  very  ingeniously  adapted  for  his  purpose, 
and  he  does  very  good  work  there.  I  believe  he 
occasionally  sends  up  a  paper  to  the  Royal  Society,  , 
or  Greenwich,  or  somewhere,  and  to  astronomical 
periodicals.' 

*  I  should  have  had  no  idea,  from  his  boyish  look, 

182 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

[that  he  had  advanced  so  far,'   the   Bishop  answered. 

I'And  yet  I  saw  on  his  face  that  within  there  was  a 

I  book  worth  studying.      His  is  a  career  I  should  very 

I  much  like  to  watch.' 

!        A  thrill  of  pleasure  chased  through  Lady  Constan- 

I  tine's  heart  at  this  praise  of  her  chosen  one.  It  was  an 
unwitting  compliment  to  her  taste  and  discernment  in 
singling  him   out   for  her  own,  despite  its  temporary 

i  inexpediency. 

I  Her  brother  Louis  now  spoke.  *  I  fancy  he  is  as 
interested    in    one    of  his    fellow-creatures   as    in    the 

[science  of  astronomy,'  observed  the  cynic  dryly. 

*  In  whom?'  said  Lady  Constantine  quickly. 

*  In  the  fair  maiden  who  sat  at  the  organ, — a 
pretty  girl,  rather.  I  noticed  a  sort  of  by-play  going 
on  between  them  occasionally,  during  the  sermon, 
which  meant  mating,  if  I  am  not  mistaken.' 

*  She  ! '  cried  Lady  Constantine.  *  She  is  only  a 
village  girl,  a  dairyman's  daughter, — Tabitha  Lark, 
who  used  to  come  to  read  to  me.' 

*  She  may  be  a  savage,  for  all  that  I  know  :  but 
there  is  something  between  those  two  young  people, 
nevertheless.' 

The  Bishop  looked  as  if  he  had  allowed  his  interest 
in  a  stranger  to  carry  him  too  far,  and  Mr.  Torkingham 
was  horrified  at  the  irreverent  and  easy  familiarity  of 
Louis  Glanville's  talk  in  the  presence  of  a  consecrated 
bishop.  As  for  Viviette,  her  tongue  lost  all  its  volu- 
bility. She  felt  quite  faint  at  heart,  and  hardly  knew 
how  to  control  herself. 

*  I  have  never  noticed  anything  of  the  sort,'  said 
Mr.  Torkingham. 

*  It  would  be  a  matter  for  regret,'  said  the  Bishop, 
*if  he  should  follow  his  father  in  forming  an  attach- 
ment that  would  be  a  hindrance  to  him  in  any  honour- 
able career ;  though  perhaps  an  early  marriage, 
intrinsically  considered,  would  not  be  bad  for  him.  A 
youth  who  looks  as  if  he  had  come  straight  from  old 
Greece  may  be  exposed  to  many  temptations,  should 

183 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

he  go  out  Into  the  world  without  a  friend  or  counselloi 
to  guide  him.' 

Despite  her  sudden  jealousy  Viviette's  eyes  gre^\ 
moist  at  the  picture  of  her  innocent  S within  going 
Into  the  world  without  a  friend  or  counsellor.  But  she 
was  sick  in  soul  and  disquieted  still  by  Louis's  dread- 
ful remarks,  who,  unbeliever  as  he  was  in  human 
virtue,  could  have  no  reason  whatever  for  represent- 
ing Swithin  as  engaged  in  a  private  love  affair  if  such  \ 
were  not  his  honest  impression. 

She  was  so  absorbed  during  the  remainder  of  the 
luncheon  that  she  did  not  even  observe  the  kindly 
light  that  her  presence  was  shedding  on  the  right 
reverend  ecclesiastic  by  her  side.  He  reflected  it 
back  in  tones  duly  mellowed  by  his  position ;  the 
minor  clergy  caught  up  the  rays  thereof,  and  so  the 
gentle  influence  played  down  the  table. 

The  company  soon  departed  when  luncheon  was 
over  ;  and  the  remainder  of  the  day  passed  in  quietness, 
the  Bishop  being  occupied  in  his  room  at  the  vicarage 
with  writing  letters  or  a  sermon.  Having  a  long 
journey  before  him  the  next  day  he  had  expressed  a 
wish  to  be  housed  for  the  night  without  ceremony,  and 
would  have  dined  alone  with  Mr.  Torkingfham  but 
that,  by  a  happy  thought.  Lady  Constantine  and  her 
brother  were  asked  to  join  them. 

However,  when  Louis  crossed  the  churchyard  and 
entered  the  vicarage  drawing-room  at  seven   o'clock, 
his  sister  was  not  in  his  company.     She  was,  he  said, 
suffering  from   a  headache,  and  much   regretted   that 
she  was  on  that  account  unable  to  come.     At   this;, 
intelligence   the   social   sparkle   disappeared   from   the^ 
Bishop's  eye,  and  he  sat  down  to  table,  endeavouring^ 
to    mould    into    the    form    of    episcopal    serenity   an: 
expression  which  was  really  one   of  common   human: 
disappointment. 

In  his  simple  statement  Louis  Glanville  had  by  no 
means  expressed  all  the  circumstances  which  accom- 
panied his  sister's  refusal,  at  the  last  moment,  to  dine 

184 


* 


•  sli{ 
read 
iniaii 
sent 
suci 

ftk 
indli 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


at  her  neighbour  s  house.  Louis  had  strongly  urged 
her  to  bear  up  against  her  slight  indisposition — if 
it  were  that,  and  not  disinclination — and  come  along 
with  him  on  just  this  one  occasion,  perhaps  a  more 
important  episode  in  her  life  than  she  was  aware  of. 
Viviette  thereupon  knew  quite  well  that  he  alluded  to 
the  favourable  impression  she  was  producing  on  the 
Bishop,  notwithstanding  that  neither  of  them  men- 
tioned the  Bishop's  name.  But  she  did  not  give  way, 
though    the  argument  waxed   strong   between   them  ; 

'4  and  Louis  left  her  in  no  very  amiable  mood,  saying, 
*  I  don't  believe  you  have  any  more  headache  than  I 
have,  Viviette.  It  is  some  provoking  whim  of  yours 
— nothing  more.' 

In  this  there  was  a  substratum  of  truth.  When 
her  brother  had  left  her,  and  she  had  seen  him  from 
the  window  entering  the  vicarage  gate,  Viviette 
seemed  to  be  much  relieved,  and  sat  down  in  her 
bedroom  till  the  evening  grew  dark,  and  only  the 
lights  shining  through  the  trees  from  the  parsonage 
dining-room  revealed  to  the  eye  where  that  dwelling 
stood.  Then  she  arose,  and  putting  on  the  cloak  she 
had  used  so  many  times  before  for  the  same  purpose, 
she  locked  her  bedroom  door  (to  be  supposed  within, 
in  case  of  the  accidental  approach  of  a  servant),  and 
let  herself  privately  out  of  the  house. 

Lady  Constantine  paused  for  a  moment  under  the 

..... ,  vicarage  windows,  till  she  could  sufficiently  well  hear 
the  voices  of  the  diners  to  be  sure  that  they  were 
actually  within,  and  then  went  on  her  way,  which  was 
towards  the  Rings- Hill  column.  She  appeared  a 
mere  spot,  hardly  distinguishable  from  the  sod,  as  she 
Lcrossed  the  open  ground,  and  soon  became  absorbed 
in  the  black  mass  of  the  fir  plantation. 

Meanwhile  the  conversation  at  Mr.  Torkingham's 
dinner-table  was  not  of  a  highly  exhilarating  quality. 
The  parson,  in  long  self-communing  during  the  after- 
noon, had  decided  that  the  Diocesan  Synod,  whose 
annual   session   at    Melchester    had   occurred    in    the 

185 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

month  previous,  would  afford  a  solid  and  unimpeach- 
able subject  to  launch  during  the  meal,  whenever 
conversation  flagged  ;  and  that  it  would  be  one  likely 
to  win  the  respect  of  his  spiritual  chieftain  for  himself 
as  the  introducer.  Accordingly,  in  the  further  belief 
that  you  could  not  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing, 
Mr.  Torkingham  not  only  acted  upon  his  idea,  but  at 
every  pause  rallied  to  the  synod  point  with  unbroken 
firmness.  Everything  which  had  been  discussed  at 
that  last  session — such  as  the  introduction  of  the  lay 
element  into  the  councils  of  the  church,  the  reconstitu- 
tion  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  church  patronage,  the 
tithe  question — was  revived  by  Mr.  Torkingham,  and 
the  excellent  remarks  which  the  Bishop  had  made  in 
his  addresses  on  those  subjects  were  quoted  back  to 
him. 

As  for  Bishop  Helmsdale  himself,  his  instincts 
seemed  to  be  to  allude  in  a  debonair  spirit  to  the 
incidents  of  the  past  day — to  the  flowers  in  Lady 
Constantine's  beds,  the  date  of  her  house — perhaps 
with  a  view  of  hearing  a  little  more  about  their  owner 
from  Louis,  who  would  very  readily  have  followed  the 
Bishop's  lead  had  the  parson  allowed  him  room.  But 
this  Mr.  Torkingham  seldom  did,  and  about  half-past 
nine  they  prepared  to  separate. 

Louis  Glanville  had  risen  from  the  table,  and  was 
standing  by  the  window,  looking  out  upon  the  sky,  and 
privately  yawning,  the  topics  discussed  having  been 
hardly  in  his  line. 

*  A  fine  night,'  he  said  at  last. 

*  I  suppose  our  young  astronomer  is  hard  at  work 
now,'  said  the  Bishop,  following  the  direction  of  Louis's 
glance  towards  the  clear  sky. 

*  Yes,'  said  the  parson  ;  '  he  is  very  assiduous  when- 
ever the  nights  are  good  for  observation.  I  have 
occasionally  joined  him  in  his  tower,  and  looked 
through  his  telescope  with  great  benefit  to  my  ideas 
of  celestial  phenomena.  I  have  not  seen  what  he  has 
been  doing  lately.' 

1 86 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Suppose  we  stroll  that  way  ? '  said  Louis.  *  Would 
you  be  interested  in  seeing  the  observatory,  Bishop?' 

'  I  am  quite  willing  to  go,'  said  the  Bishop,  '  if  the 
distance  is  not  too  great.  I  should  not  be  at  all 
averse  to  making  the  acquaintance  of  so  exceptional  a 
young  man  as  this  Mr.  St.  Cleeve  seems  to  be  ;  and  I 
have  never  seen  the  inside  of  an  observatory  in  my 
life.' 

The  intention  was  no  s;  jner  formed  than  it  was 
carried  out,  Mr.  Torkingham  leading  the  way. 


XXVI 

Half  an  hour  before  this  time  Swithin  St.  Cleeve  had 
been  sitting  in  his  cabin  at  the  base  of  the  column, 
working  out  some  figures  from  observations  taken  on 
preceding  nights,  with  a  view  to  a  theory  that  he  had 
in  his  head  on  the  motions  of  certain  so-called  fixed 
stars. 

The  evening  being  a  little  chilly  a  small  fire  was 
burning  in  the  stove,  and  this  and  the  shaded  lamp 
before  him  lent  a  remarkably  cosy  air  to  the  chamber. 
He  was  awakened  from  his  reveries  by  a  scratching 
at  the  window  -  pane  like  that  of  the  point  of  an 
ivy  leaf,  which  he  knew  to  be  really  caused  by  the 
tip  of  his  sweetheart- wife's  forefinger.  He  rose  and 
opened  the  door  to  admit  her,  not  without  astonish- 
ment as  to  how  she  had  been  able  to  get  away  from 
her  friends. 

*  Dearest  Viv,  why,  what's  the  matter  ? '  he  said, 
perceiving  that  her  face,  as  the  lamplight  fell  on  it, 
was  sad,  and  even  stormy. 

*  I  thought  I  would  run  across  to  see  you.  I  have 
heard  something  so — so — to  your  discredit,  and  I 
know  it  can't  be  true  !  I  know  you  are  constancy 
itself;  but  your  constancy  produces  strange  effects  In 
people's  eyes ! ' 

*  Good  heavens !     Nobody  has  found  us  out ' 

*  No,  no — it  is  not  that.  You  know,  Swithin,  that 
I  am  always  sincere,  and  willing  to  own  if  I  am  to 
blame  in  anything.  Now  will  you  prove  to  me  that 
you  are  the  same  by  owning  some  fault  to  me  ? ' 

i88 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Yes,  dear,  indeed  ;  direcdy  I  can  think  of  one 
worth  owning.' 

'  I  wonder  one  does  not  rush  upon  your  tongue  in 
a  moment ! ' 

'  I  confess  that  I  am  sufficiently  a  Pharisee  not  to 
experience  that  spontaneity.' 

'  Swithin,  don't  speak  so  affectedly,  when  you  know 
so  well  what  I  mean !  Is  it  nothing  to  you  that,  after 
all  our  vows  for  life,  you  have  thought  it  right  to — 
flirt  with  a  village  girl  ?  ' 

*  O  Viviette  ! '  interrupted  Swithin,  taking  her  hand, 
which  was  hot  and  trembling.  *  You  who  are  full  of 
noble  and  generous  feelings,  and  regard  me  with 
devoted  tenderness  that  has  never  been  surpassed  by 
woman, — how  can  you  be  so  greatly  at  fault  ?  I  flirt, 
Viviette  ?  By  thinking  that  you  injure  yourself  in  my 
eyes.  Why,  I  am  so  far  from  doing  so  that  I  con- 
tinually pull  myself  up  for  watching  you  too  jealously, 
as  to-day,  when  I  have  been  dreading  the  effect  upon 
you  of  other  company  in  my  absence,  and  thinking 
that  you  rather  shut  the  gates  against  me  when  you 
have  big- wigs  to  entertain.' 

*  Do  you,  Swithin  ? '  she  cried.  It  was  evident 
that  the  honest  tone  of  his  words  was  having  a  great 
effect  in  clearing  away  the  clouds.  She  added  with 
an  uncertain  smile,  *  But  how  can  I  believe  that,  after 
what  was  seen  to-day?  My  brother,  not  knowing  in 
the  least  that  I  had  an  iota  of  interest  in  you,  told  me 
that  he  witnessed  the  signs  of  an  attachment  between 
you  and  Tabitha  Lark  in  church,  this  morning.' 

'  Ah ! '  cried  Swithin,  with  a  burst  of  laughter. 
1  *  Now  I  know  what  you  mean,  and  what  has  caused 
this  misunderstanding!  How  dear  of  you,  Viviette, 
to  come  at  once  and  have  it  out  with  me,  instead  of 
brooding  over  it  with  dark  imaginings,  and  thinking 
bitter  things  of  me,  as  many  women  would  have 
done!'  He  succinctly  told  the  whole  story  of  his 
little  adventure  with  Tabitha  that  morning ;  and  the 
sky  was  clear  on  both  sides.     'When  shall  I  be  able 

189 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

to  claim  you,'  he  added,  'and  put  an  end  to  all  such 
painful  accidents  as  these  ? ' 

She  partially  sighed.  Her  perception  of  what  the 
outside  world  was  made  of,  latterly  somewhat  obscured 
by  solitude  and  her  lover's  company,  had  been  revived 
to-day  by  her  entertainment  of  the  Bishop,  clergymen, 
and,  more  particularly,  clergymen's  wives  ;  and  it  did 
not  diminish  her  sense  of  the  difficulties  in  Swithin's 
path  to  see  anew  how  little  was  thought  of  the  greatest 
gifts,  mental  and  spiritual,  if  they  were  not  backed  up 
by  substantial  temporalities.  However,  the  pair  made 
the  best  of  their  future  that  circumstances  permitted, 
and  the  interview  was  at  length  drawing  to  a  close 
when  there  came,  without  the  slightest  forewarning,  a 
smart  rat-tat-tat  upon  the  little  door. 

'  O  I  am  lost ! '  breathed  Viviette,  seizing  his  arm. 
*  Why  was  I  so  incautious  ?  ' 

*  It  is  nobody  of  consequence,'  whispered  S within 
assuringly.  '  Somebody  from  my  grandmother,  prob- 
ably, to  know  when  I  am  coming  home.' 

They  were  unperceived  so  far,  for  the  only  window 
which  gave  light  to  the  hut  was  screened  by  a  curtain. 
At  that  moment  they  heard  the  sound  of  their  visitors' 
voices,  and,  with  a  consternation  as  great  as  her  own, 
Swithin  discerned  the  tones  of  Mr.  Torkingham  and 
the  Bishop  of  Melchester. 

'  Where  shall  I  get  ?  What  shall  I  do  ?  '  said  the 
poor  lady,  clasping  her  hands. 

Swithin  looked  around  the  cabin,  and  a  very  little 
look  was  required  to  take  in  all  its  resources.     At  the 
doorway  end,  as  previously  explained,  were  a  table, 
stove,  chair,  cupboard,  and  so  on  ;  while  the  other  was    ^ 
completely  occupied  by  a  diminutive  Arabian  bedstead,     | 
hung  with  curtains  of  pink-and-white  chintz.     On  the 
inside  of  the  bed  there  was  a  narrow  channel,  about  a     ^ 
foot  wide,  between  it  and  the  wall  of  the  hut.     Into     P 
this  cramped  retreat  Viviette  slid  herself,  and  stood 
trembling  behind  the  curtains.  , 

By  this  time  the  knock  had  been  repeated  more 

190 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

loudly,  the  light  through  the  window-blind  unhappily 
revealing  the  presence  of  some  inmate.  Swithin 
smoothed  the  bed  a  little,  threw  open  the  door,  and 
Mr.  Torkingham  introduced  his  visitors. 

The  Bishop  shook  hands  with  the  young  man, 
told  him  he  had  known  his  father,  and  at  Swithin's 
invitation,  weak  as  it  was,  entered  the  cabin,  the  vicar 
and  Louis  Glanville  remaining  on  the  threshold,  not 
to  Inconveniently  crowd  the  limited  space  within. 

Bishop  Helmsdale  looked  benignantly  around  the 
apartment,  and  said,  *  Quite  a  settlement  in  the 
backwoods — quite :  far  enough  from  the  world  to 
afford  the  votary  of  science  the  seclusion  he  needs, 
and  not  so  far  as  to  limit  his  resources.  A  hermit 
might  apparently  live  here  in  as  much  solitude  as  in 
a  primeval  forest.' 

'  His  lordship  has  been  good  enough  to  express 
an  interest  in  your  studies,'  said  Mr.  Torkingham 
to  St.  Cleeve.  '  And  we  have  come  to  ask  you  to 
let  us  see  the  observatory.' 

'With  great  pleasure,'  stammered  Swithin. 

*  Where  is  the  observatory  .f^ '  inquired  the  Bishop, 
peering  round  again. 

'The  staircase  is  just  outside  this  door,'  Swithin 
answered.  '  I  am  at  your  lordship's  service,  and  will 
show  you  up  at  once.' 

'And  this  is  your  little  bed,  for  use  when  you 
work  late,'  said  the  Bishop. 

'Yes;  I  am  afraid  it  is  rather  untidy,'  Swithin 
apologized. 

'And  here  are  your  books,'  the  Bishop  continued, 
turning  to  the  table  and  the  shaded  lamp.  '  You 
take  an  observation  at  the  top,  I  presume,  and  come 
down  here  to  record  your  observations.' 

The  young  man  explained  his  precise  processes 
as  well  as  his  state  of  mind  would  let  him,  and  while 
he  was  doing  so  Mr.  Torkingham  and  Louis  waited 
patiently  without,  looking  sometimes  into  the  night, 
and  sometimes  through  the  door  at  the  interlocutors, 

191 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  listening  to  their  scientific  converse.  When  all 
had  been  exhibited  here  below  Swithin  lit  his  lantern, 
and,  inviting  his  visitors  to  follow,  led  the  way  up 
the  column,  experiencing  no  small  sense  of  relief  as 
soon  as  he  heard  the  footsteps  of  all  three  tramping 
on  the  stairs  behind  him.  He  knew  very  well  that, 
once  they  were  inside  the  spiral,  Viviette  was  out 
of  danger,  her  knowledge  of  the  locality  enabling 
her  to  find  her  way  with  perfect  safety  through  the 
plantation,  and  into  the  park  home. 

At  the  top  he  uncovered  his  equatorial,  and,  for 
the  first  time  at  ease,  explained  to  them  its  beauties, 
and  revealed  by  its  help  the  glories  of  those  stars 
that  were  eligible  for  inspection.  The  Bishop  spoke 
as  intelligently  as  could  be  expected  on  a  topic  not 
peculiarly  his  own  ;  but,  somehow,  he  seemed  rather 
more  abstracted  in  manner  now  than  when  he  had 
arrived.  Swithin  thought  that  perhaps  the  long 
clamber  up  the  stairs,  coming  after  a  hard  day's 
work,  had  taken  his  spontaneity  out  of  him,  and  Mr. 
Torkingham  was  afraid  that  his  lordship  was  getting 
bored.  But  this  did  not  appear  to  be  the  case  ;  for 
though  he  said  little  he  stayed  on  some  time  longer, 
examining  the  construction  of  the  dome  after  relin- 
quishing the  telescope ;  while  occasionally  Swithin 
caught  the  eyes  of  the  Bishop  fixed  hard  on  him. 

'  Perhaps  he  sees  some  likeness  of  my  father  in  me,' 
the  young  man  thought ;  and  the  party  making  ready 
to  leave  at  this  time  he  conducted  them  to  the  bottom 
of  the  tower. 

Swithin  was  not  prepared  for  what  followed  their 
descent.  All  were  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case. The  astronomer,  lantern  in  hand,  offered  to  ^ 
show  them  the  way  out  of  the  plantation,  to  which  Mr. 
Torkingham  replied  that  he  knew  the  way  very  well, 
and  would  not  trouble  his  young  friend.  He  strode 
forward  with  the  words,  and  Louis  followed  him,  after 
waiting  a  moment  and  finding  that  the  Bishop  would 
not   take   the   precedence.     The   latter   and    Swithin 

192 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

were  thus  left  together  for  one  moment,  whereupon 
%\  the  Bishop  turned. 

'  Mr,   St.   Cleeve,'  he  said  in   a  strange  voice,   '  I 
should  like  to  speak  to  you  privately,  before  I   leave 
5    to-morrow  morning.     Can  you  meet  me — let  me  see — 
^''\  in  the  churchyard,  at  half-past  ten  o'clock.^' 

*0  yes,  my  lord,  certainly,*  said  Swithin.  And 
before  he  had  recovered  from  his  surprise  the  Bishop 
had  joined  the  others  in  the  shades  of  the  plantation. 

Swithin  immediately  opened  the  door  of  the  hut, 
and  scanned  the  nook  behind  the  bed.  As  he  had 
expected  his  bird  had  flown. 


XXVII 

All  night  the  astronomer's  mind  was  on  the  stretch 
with  curiosity  as  to  what  the  Bishop  could  wish  to  say 
to  him.  A  dozen  conjectures  entered  his  brain,  to  be 
abandoned  in  turn  as  unHkely.  That  which  finally 
seemed  the  most  plausible  was  that  the  Bishop,  having 
become  interested  in  his  pursuits,  and  entertaining 
friendly  recollections  of  his  father,  was  going  to  ask  if 
he  could  do  anything  to  help  him  on  in  the  profession 
he  had  chosen.  Should  this  be  the  case,  thought  the 
suddenly  sanguine  youth,  it  would  seem  like  an  en- 
couragement to  that  spirit  of  firmness  which  had  led 
him  to  reject  his  late  uncle's  offer  because  it  involved 
the  renunciation  of  Lady  Constantine. 

At  last  he  fell  asleep ;  and  when  he  awoke  it  was 
so  late  that  the  hour  was  ready  to  solve  what  conjec- 
ture could  not.  After  a  hurried  breakfast  he  paced 
across  the  fields,  entering  the  churchyard  by  the  south 
gate  precisely  at  the  appointed  minute. 

The  inclosure  was  well  adapted  for  a  private  inter-    j 
view,  being  bounded   by  bushes  of  laurel   and  alder 
nearly  on  all  sides.      He   looked   round  ;   the   Bishop 
was  not  there,  nor  any  living  creature  save  himself. 
Swithin  sat  down  upon  a  tombstone  to  await  Bishop  ^ 
Helmsdale's  arrival. 

While  he  sat  he  fancied  he  could  hear  voices  in 
conversation  not  far  off,  and  further  attention  con- 
vinced him  that  they  came  from  Lady  Constantine's 
lawn,  which  was  divided  from  the  churchyard  by  a 
high  wall  and  shrubbery  only.     As  the  Bishop  still 

194 


j  TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

I  delayed  his  coming,  though  the  time  was  nearly  eleven, 
|i  and  as  the  lady  whose  sweet  voice  mingled  with  those 
heard  from  the  lawn  was  his  personal  property,  Swithin 
became  exceedingly  curious  to  learn  what  was  goinor 
on  within  that  screened  promenade.  A  way  of  doing 
so  occurred  to  him.  The  key  was  in  the  church 
door ;  he  opened  it,  entered,  and  ascended  to  the 
belfry  in  the  west  tower.  At  the  back  of  this  was 
a  window  commanding  a  full  view  of  Viviette's  garden 
front. 

The  flowers  were  all  in  gayest  bloom,  and  the 
creepers  on  the  walls  of  the  house  were  bursting  into 
tufts  of  young  green.  A  broad  gravel-walk  ran  from 
end  to  end  of  the  facade,  terminating  in  a  large  con- 
servatory. In  the  walk  were  three  people  pacing  up 
and  down.  Lady  Constantine's  was  the  central  figure, 
her  brother  being  on  one  side  of  her,  and  on  the  other 
a  stately  form  in  a  corded  shovel-hat  of  glossy  beaver 
I  and  black  breeches.  This  was  the  Bishop.  Viviette 
I  carried  over  her  shoulder  a  sunshade  lined  with  red, 
which  she  twirled  idly.  They  were  laughing  and 
chatting  gaily,  and  w^hen  the  group  approached  the 
churchyard  many  of  their  remarks  entei-ed  the  silence 
of  the  church  tower  through  the  ventilator  of  the 
window. 

The  conversation  was  general,  yet  interesting 
enough  to  Swithin.  At  length  Louis  stepped  upon 
the  grass  and  picked  up  something  that  had  lain  there, 
which  turned  out  to  be  a  bowl :  throwing  it  forward 
he  took  a  second,  and  bowled  it  towards  the  first,  or 
I  jack.  The  Bishop,  who  seemed  to  be  in  a  sprightly 
I  mood,  followed  suit,  and  bowled  one  in  a  curve  towards 
I  the  jack,  turning  and  speaking  to  Lady  Constantine 
as  he  concluded  the  feat.  As  she  had  not  left  the 
gravelled  terrace  he  raised  his  voice,  so  that  the  words 
reached  Swithin  distinctlv. 

*  Do  you  follow  us  ? '  he  asked  gaily. 

*  I    am    not    skilful,'    she    said.       *  I    always    bowl 
narrow.* 

195 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  Bishop  meditatively  paused. 

*  This  moment  reminds  one  of  the  scene  in  Richards 
the  Second,'  he  said.      *  I   mean  the  Duke   of  York's 
garden,  where  the  queen  and  her  two  ladies  play,  and| 
the  queen  says — 

"  What  sport  shall  we  devise  here  in  this  garden, 
To  drive  away  the  heavy  thought  of  care  ?  " 

To  which  her  lady  answers,  "  Madam,  we'll  play  at 
bowls." ' 

'That's   an    unfortunate    quotation    for  you,'    said 
Lady  Constantine  ;  *  for  if  I   don't  forget,  the  queen 
decHnes,  saying,  "'Twill  make  me  think  the  world  isi 
full  of  rubs,  and   that   my   fortune    runs  against  the 
bias."' 

*  Then  I  cite  vial  a  propos.  But  it  is  an  interesting 
old  game,  and  might  have  been  played  at  that  very 
date  on  this  very  green.' 

The  Bishop  lazily  bowled  another,  and  while  he 
was  doing  it  Viviette's  glance  rose  by  accident  to  the 
belfry  window,  where  she  recognized  Swithin's  face. 
Her  surprise  was  only  momentary ;  and  waiting  till 
both  her  companions'  backs  were  turned  she  smiled 
and  blew  him  a  kiss.  In  another  minute  she  had 
another  opportunity,  and  blew  him  another ;  after- 
wards blowing  him  one  a  third  time. 

Her  blowings  were  put  a  stop  to  by  the  Bishop 
and  Louis  throwing  down  the  bowls  and  rejoining  her 
in  the  path,  the  house  clock  at  the  moment  striking 
half-past  eleven. 

*  This  is  a  fine  way  of  keeping  an  engagement,'  said 
Swithin  to  himself.  '  I  have  waited  an  hour  while  you 
indulge  in  those  trifles  !  ' 

He  fumed,  turned,  and  behold  somebody  was  at 
his  elbow :  Tabitha  Lark.  Swithin  started,  and  said, 
*  How  did  you  come  here,  Tabitha?* 

'  In  the  course  of  my  calling,  Mr.  St.  Cleeve,'  said 
the  smiling  girl.  *  I  come  to  practise  on  the  organ. 
When  I  entered  I  saw  you  up  here  through  the  tower 

196 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

arch,  and  I  crept  up  to  see  what  you  were  looking  at 
The  Bishop  is  a  striking  man,  is  he  not  ? ' 

*  Yes,  rather,'  said  Swithin. 

*  I  think  he  is  much  devoted  to  Lady  Constantine, 
and  I  am  glad  of  it.     Aren't  you  ? ' 

*0  yes — very,'  said  Swithin,  wondering  if  Tabitha 
had  seen  the  tender  little  salutes  between  Lady  Con- 
stantine and  himself. 

'  I  don't  think  she  cares  much  for  him,*  added 
Tabitha  judicially.  *  Or,  even  if  she  does,  she  could 
be  got  away  from  him  in  no  time  by  a  younger  man.' 

*  Pooh,  that's  nothing,'  said  Swithin  impatiently. 
Tabitha  then  remarked  that  her  blower   had  not 

come  to  time,  and  that  she  must  go  to  look  for  him  ; 
upon  which  she  descended  the  stairs,  and  left  Swithin 
again  alone. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  Bishop  suddenly  looked  at 
his  watch.  Lady  Constantine  having  withdrawn  towards 
the  house.  Apparently  apologizing  to  Louis  the 
Bishop  came  down  the  terrace,  and  through  the  door 
into  the  churchyard.  Swithin  hastened  downstairs 
and  joined  him  in  the  path  under  the  sunny  wall  of 
the  aisle. 

Their  glances  met,  and  it  was  with  some  consterna- 
tion that  Swithin  beheld  the  change  that  a  few  short 
minutes  had  wrought  in  that  episcopal  countenance. 
On  the  lawn  with  Lady  Constantine  the  rays  of  an 
almost  perpetual  smile  had  brightened  his  dark  aspect 
like  flowers  in  a  shady  place  :  now  the  smile  was  gone 
as  completely  as  yesterday  ;  the  lines  of  his  face  were 
firm  ;  his  dark  eyes  and  whiskers  were  overspread 
with  gravity  ;  and,  as  he  gazed  upon  Swithin  from  the 
repose  of  his  stable  figure  it  was  like  an  evangelized 
King  of  Spades  come  to  have  it  out  with  the  Knave 
of  Hearts. 

To  return  for  a  moment  to  Louis  Glanville.  He 
had  been  somewhat  struck  with  the  abruptness  of 
the  Bishop's  departure,  and  more  particularly  by  the 

197 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

circumstance  that  he  had  gone  away  by  the  private 
door  into  the  churchyard  instead  of  by  the  regular 
exit  on  the  other  side.  True,  great  men  were  known 
to  suffer  from  absence  of  mind,  and  Bishop  Helmsdale, 
having  a  dim  sense  that  he  had  entered  by  that  door 
yesterday,  might  have  unconsciously  turned  thither- 
ward now.  Louis,  upon  the  whole,  thought  little  of 
the  matter,  and  being  now  left  quite  alone  on  the 
lawn,  he  seated  himself  in  an  arbour  and  began . 
smoking. 

The  arbour  was  situated  against  the  churchyard 
wall.  The  atmosphere  was  as  still  as  the  air  of  a 
hot-house  ;  only  fourteen  inches  of  brickwork  divided 
Louis  from  the  scene  of  the  Bishop's  interview  with 
St.  Cleeve,  and  as  voices  on  the  lawn  had  been  audible 
to  Swithin  in  the  churchyard,  voices  in  the  churchyard 
could  be  heard  without  difficulty  from  that  close  corner 
of  the  lawn.  No  sooner  had  Louis  lit  a  cigar  than  the 
dialogue  began. 

*  Ah,  you  are  here,  St.  Cleeve,'  said  the  Bishop 
gruffly,  hardly  replying  to  Swithin's  good  morning. 
*  I  fear  I  am  a  little  late.  Well,  my  request  to  you 
to  meet  me  may  have  seemed  somewhat  unusual, 
seeing  that  we  were  strangers  till  a  few  hours  ago.' 

*  I  don't  mind  that,  if  your  lordship  wishes  to  see 
me.' 

'  I  thought  it  best  to  see  you  regarding  your  con- 
firmation yesterday  ;  and  my  reason  for  taking  a  more  : 
active   step  with  you  than    I    should   otherwise   have : 
done  is   that   I   have  some  interest   in  you    through 
having    known   your   father    when    we    were    under- 
graduates.     His  rooms  were  on  the  same  staircase: 
with   mine  at  All  Angels,  and  we  were  friendly   till 
time  and   affairs  separated  us  even  more  completely 
than    usually    happens.       However,   about    your   pre- 
senting  yourself    for   confirmation.'      (The    Bishop's 
voice    grew    stern.)       *  If    I     had    known    yesterday 
morning  what  I   knew  twelve  hours  later,  I  wouldn't 
have  confirmed  you  at  all.' 

198 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

'  Indeed,  my  lord  I  ' 

*  Yes,  I  say  it,  and  I  mean  it.  I  visited  your 
observatory  last  night.' 

'  You  did,  my  lord.' 

*  In  inspecting  it  I  noticed  something  which  I  m-y 
truly  describe  as  extraordinary.  I  have  had  young 
men  present  themselves  to  me  who  turned  out  to  be 
notoriously  unfit,  either  from  giddiness,  from  being 
profane  or  intemperate,  or  from  some  bad  quality  or 
other.  But  I  never  remember  a  case  which  equalled 
the  cool  culpability  of  this.  W^hile  infringing  the 
first  principles  of  social  decorum  you  might  at  least 
bave  respected  the  ordinance  sufficiently  to  have 
stayed  away  from  it  altogether.  Now  I  have  sent 
^or  you  here  to  see  if  a  last  entreaty  and  a  direct 
appeal  to  your  sense  of  manly  uprightness  will  have 
my  effect  in  inducing  you  to  change  your  course 
.)flife.' 

The  voice  of  Swithin  in  his  next  remark  showed 

low  tremendously  this  attack  of  the  Bishop  had  told 

jpon   his   feelings.      Louis,    of  course,   did   not   know 

;he  reason  why  the  words  should  have  affected  him 

precisely  as  they  did  ;   to  any  one  in  the   secret   the 

1  iiouble   embarrassment    arising   from   misapprehended 

:|  bthics  and  inability  to  set  matters  right,  because  his 

1  jvord    of   secrecy    to    another    was    inviolable,    would 

.!  jiave   accounted   for  the  young  man's   emotion   suffi- 

i  |:iently  well. 

*  I  am  very  sorry  your  lordship  should  have  seen 
mything  objectionable,'  said  Swithin.  *  May  I  ask 
Ivhat  it  was  ?  * 

'You    know    what    it    was.      Something    in    your 
Chamber,  which  forced  me  to  the  above  conclusions, 
disguised   my   feelings   of   sorrow   at   the    time    for 
obvious  reasons,  but   I   never  in   my  whole  life  was 
o  shocked  1 ' 

*  At  what,  my  lord  ? ' 

*  At  what  I  saw.' 

*  Pardon  me,  Bishop  Helmsdale,  but  you  said  just 

199 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

now  that  we  are  strangers  ;  so  what  you  saw  in  my 
cabin  concerns  me  only.' 

*  There  I  contradict  you.  Twenty-four  hours  age 
that  remark  would  have  been  plausible  enough  ;  bu 
by  presenting  yourself  for  confirmation  at  my  handj 
you  invited  my  investigation  into  your  principles.' 

Swithin  sighed.     *  I  admit  it,'  he  said. 

*  And  what  do  I  find  them  ?  ' 

*  You  say  reprehensible.  But  you  might  at  leas 
let  me  hear  the  proof!' 

*  I  can  do  more,  sir.     I  can  let  you  see  it ! ' 
There   was   a    pause.       Louis    Glanville  was    sc 

highly  interested  that  he  stood  upon  the  seat  of  th( 
arbour,  and  looked  through  the  leafage  over  the  wall 
The  Bishop  had  produced  an  article  from  his  pocket. 

*  What  is  it  ?  *  said  Swithin,  laboriously  scrutinizing 
the  thing  as  if  he  did  not  know  what  it  was  full  well. 

*  Why,  don't  you  see.'^'  said  the  Bishop,  holding  ii' 
out  between  his  finger  and  thumb  in  Swithin's  face. 
*  A  bracelet, — a  coral  bracelet.  I  found  the  wantor 
object  on  the  bed  in  your  cabin !  And  of  the  sex  o; 
the  owner  there  can  be  no  doubt.  More  than  that 
she  was  concealed  behind  the  curtains,  for  I  saw  then 
move.'  In  the  decision  of  his  opinion  the  Bishof 
threw  the  coral  bracelet  down  on  a  tombstone. 

*  Nobody  was  in  my  room,  my  lord,  who  had  not  c 
perfect  right  to  be  there,'  said  the  younger  man. 

'  Well,  well,  that's  a  matter  of  assertion.  Now 
don't  get  into  a  passion,  and  say  to  me  in  your  haste 
what  you'll  repent  of  saying  afterwards.* 

*  I  am  not  in  a  passion,  I  assure  your  lordship.  I 
am  too  sad  for  passion.' 

*  Very  well ;  that's  a  hopeful  sign.  Now  I  would' 
ask  you,  as  one  man  of  another,  do  you  think  that  tc 
come  to  me,  the  Bishop  of  this  large  and  important 
diocese,  as  you  came  yesterday,  and  pretend  to  be 
something  that  you  are  not,  is  quite  upright  conduct,i 
leave  alone  religious  ?  Think  it  over.  We  may  never 
meet  again.     But  bear  in  mind  what  your  Bishop  and 

200 


m 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


spiritual  head  says  to  you,  and  see  if  you  cannot  mend 
before  it  is  too  late.* 

Swithin  was  meek  as  Moses,  but  he  tried  to 
appear  sturdy.  '  My  lord,  I  am  in  a  difficult  position,' 
he  said  mournfully  ;  '  how  difficult,  nobody  but  myself 
can  tell.  I  cannot  explain  ;  there  are  insuperable 
reasons  against  it.  But  will  you  take  my  word  of 
assurance  that  I  am  not  so  bad  as  I  seem  ?  Some 
day  I  will  prove  it.  Till  then  I  only  ask  you  to 
suspend  your  judgment  on  me.' 

The  Bishop  shook  his  head  incredulously  and  went 
towards  the  vicarage,  as  if  he  had  lost  his  hearing. 
Swithin  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  and  Louis 
followed  the  direction  of  Swithin's.  Before  the  Bishop 
had  reached  the  vicarage  entrance  Lady  Constantine 
crossed  in  front  of  him.  She  had  a  basket  on  her 
arm,  and  was,  in  fact,  going  to  visit  some  of  the 
poorer  cottages.  Who  could  believe  the  Bishop  now  to 
be  the  same  man  that  he  had  been  a  moment  before  ? 
^1  The  darkness  left  his  face  as  if  he  had  come  out  of  a 
cave  ;  his  look  was  all  sweetness,  and  shine,  and  gaiety, 
as  he  again  greeted  Viviette. 


lo: 


33 

di:: 


XXVIII 

The  conversation  which  arose  between  the  Bishop  and 
Lady  Constantine  was  of  that  Hvely  and  reproductive 
kind  which  cannot  be  ended  during  any  reasonable 
halt  of  two  people  going  in  opposite  directions.  He 
turned,  and  walked  with  her  along  the  laurel-screened 
lane  that  bordered  the  churchyard,  till  their  voices 
died  away  in  the  distance.  Swithin  then  aroused 
himself  from  his  thoughtful  regard  of  them,  and  went 
out  of  the  churchyard  by  another  gate. 

Seeing  himself  now  to  be  left  alone  on  the  scene, 
Louis  Glanville  descended  from  his  post  of  observation 
in  the  arbour.  He  came  through  the  private  door- 
way, and  on  to  that  spot  among  the  graves  where 
the  Bishop  and  St.  Cleeve  had  conversed.  On  the 
tombstone  still  lay  the  coral  bracelet  which  Dr. 
Helmsdale  had  flung  down  there  in  his  indignation ; 
for  the  agitated,  introspective  mood  into  which  Swithin 
had  been  thrown  had  banished  from  his  mind  all 
thought  of  securing  the  trinket  and  putting  it  in 
his  pocket. 

Louis  picked  up  the  little  red  scandal-breeding 
thing,  and  while  walking  on  with  it  in  his  hand  he 
observed  Tabitha  Lark  approaching  the  church,  in 
company  with  the  young  blower  whom  she  had  gone 
in  search  of  to  inspire  her  organ-practising  within. 
Louis  immediately  put  together,  with  that  rare 
diplomatic  keenness  of  which  he  was  proud,  the 
little  scene  he  had  witnessed  between  Tabitha  and 
Swithin   during   the   confirmation,   and    the    Bishop's 

202 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

stern  statement  as  to  where  he  had  found  the  bracelet. 

He  had  no  longer  any  doubt  that  it  belonged  to  her. 

'  Poor  girl ! '   he  said  to   himself,   and  sang  in   an 

undertone — 

*  Tra  deri,  dera, 
L'histoire  n'est  pas  nouvelle  1 ' 

When  she  drew  nearer  Louis  called  her  by  name. 
She  sent  the  boy  into  the  church,  and  came  forward, 
blushing  at  having  been  called  by  so  fine  a  gentleman. 
Louis  held  out  the  bracelet. 

'  Here  is  something  I  have  found,  or  somebody  else 
has  found,'  he  said  to  her.  *  I  won't  state  where.  Put 
it  away,  and  say  no  more  about  it.  I  will  not  mention 
it  either.  Now  go  on  into  the  church  where  you  are 
going,  and  may  Heaven  have  mercy  on  your  soul,  my 
dear.' 

'  Thank  you,  sir,'  said  Tabitha,  with  some  perplexity, 
yet  inclined  to  be  pleased,  and  only  recognizing  in  the 
situation  the  fact  that  Lady  Constantine's  humorous 
brother  was  making  her  a  present. 

'  You  are  much  obliged  to  me  ? ' 

'  O  yes  ! ' 

*  Well,  Miss  Lark,  I've  discovered  a  secret,  you  see.' 

*  What  may  that  be,  Mr.  Glanville  ? ' 
*That  you  are  in  love.' 

*  I  don't  admit  it,  sir.     Who  told  you  so  ?* 

*  Nobody.  Only  I  put  two  and  two  together.  Now 
take  my  advice.  Beware  of  lovers !  They  are  a  bad 
lot,  and  bring  young  women  to  tears.' 

'  Some  do,  I  dare  say.      But  some  don't.' 

*  And  you   think   that  in  your  particular  case  the 
^  latter  alternative  will  hold  good  ?     We  generally  think 

we  shall  be  lucky  ourselves,  though  all  the  world  before 
us,  in  the  same  situation,  have  been  otherwise.' 
'O  yes,  or  we  should  die  outright  of  despair.' 

*  Well,  I  don't  think  you  will  be  lucky  in  your  case.' 

*  Please  how  do  you  know  so  much,  since  my  case 
has  not  yet  arrived  ? '  asked  Tabitha,  tossing  her  head 

203 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

a  little  disdainfully,  but  less  than  she  might  have  done 
if  he  had  not  obtained  a  charter  for  his  discourse  by 
giving  her  the  bracelet. 

*  Fie,  Tabitha ! ' 

*  I  tell  you  it  has  not  arrived !  *  she  said,  with  some 
anger.  *  I  have  not  got  a  lover,  and  everybody  knows 
I  haven't,  and  it's  an  insinuating  thing  for  you  to 
say  so ! ' 

Louis  laughed,  thinking  how  natural  it  was  that  a 
girl  should  so  emphatically  deny  circumstances  that 
would  not  bear  curious  inquiry. 

*  Why,  of  course  I  meant  myself,'  he  said  soothingly. 

*  So,  then,  you  will  not  accept  me  ? ' 

'  I  didn't  know  you  meant  yourself,'   she  replied. 

*  But  I  won't  accept  you.  And  I  think  you  ought  not 
to  jest  on  such  subjects.* 

'  Well,  perhaps  not.  However,  don*t  let  the  Bishop 
see  your  bracelet,  and  all  will  be  well.  But  mind, 
lovers  are  deceivers.' 

Tabitha  laughed,  and  they  parted,  the  girl  entering 
the  church.  She  had  been  feeling  almost  certain  that, 
having  accidentally  found  the  bracelet  somewhere,  he 
had  presented  it  in  a  whim  to  her  as  the  first  girl  he 
met.  Yet  now  she  began  to  have  momentary  doubts 
whether  he  had  not  been  labouring  under  a  mistake, 
and  had  imagined  her  to  be  the  owner.  The  bracelet 
was  not  valuable  ;  it  was,  in  fact,  a  mere  toy, — the 
pair  of  which  this  was  one  being  a  little  present  made 
to  Lady  Constantine  by  Swithin  on  the  day  of  their 
marriage  ;  and  she  had  not  worn  them  with  sufficient 
frequency  out  of  doors  for  Tabitha  to  recognize  either 
as  positively  her  ladyship's.  But  when,  out  of  sight 
of  the  blower,  the  girl  momentarily  tried  it  on  in  a 
corner  by  the  organ,  it  seemed  to  her  that  the 
ornament  was  possibly  Lady  Constantine's.  Now 
that  the  pink  beads  shone  before  her  eyes  on  her  own 
arm  she  remembered  having  seen  a  bracelet  with  just 
such  an  effect  gracing  the  wrist  of  Lady  Constantine 
upon  one  occasion.     A  temporary  self-surrender  to  the 

204 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

sophism  that  if  Mr.  Louis  Glanville  chose  to  give 
away  anything  belonging  to  his  sister,  she,  Tabitha, 
had  a  right  to  take  it  without  question,  was  soon 
checked  by  a  resolve  to  carry  the  tempting  strings  of 
coral  to  her  ladyship  that  evening,  and  inquire  the 
truth  about  them.  This  decided  on  she  slipped  the 
bracelet  into  her  pocket,  and  played  her  voluntaries 
with  a  light  heart. 

Bishop  Helmsdale  did  not  tear  himself  away  from 
Welland  till  about  two  o'clock  that  afternoon,  which 
was  three  hours  later  than  he  had  intended  to  leave. 
It  was  with  a  feeling  of  relief  that  Swithin,  looking 
from  the  top  of  the  tower,  saw  the  carriage  drive  out 
from  the  vicarage  into  the  turnpike  road,  and  whirl  the 
right  reverend  gentleman  again  towards  Warborne. 
The  coast  being  now  clear  of  him  Swithin  meditated 
how  to  see  Viviette,  and  explain  what  had  happened. 
With  this  in  view  he  waited  where  he  was  till  evening 
came  on. 

Meanwhile  Lady  Constantine  and  her  brother  dined 

by  themselves  at  Welland  House.     They  had  not  met 

j  since  the  morning,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  left  alone 

'  Louis  said,  *  You  have  done  very  well  so  far  ;  but  you 

might  have  been  a  little  warmer.' 

*  Done  well  ? '  she  asked,  with  surprise. 

'  Yes,  with  the  Bishop.  The  difficult  question  is 
how  to  follow  up  our  advantage.  How  are  you  to 
keep  yourself  in  sight  of  him  ? ' 

*  Heavens,  Louis !  You  don't  seriously  mean  that 
the  Bishop  of  Melchester  has  any  feelings  for  me 
other  than  friendly  ?  ' 

*  Viviette,  this  is  affectation.  You  know  he  has  as 
well  as  I  do.' 

She  sighed.  'Yes,'  she  said.  *  I  own  I  had  a  sus- 
picion of  the  same  thing.     What  a  misfortune  ! ' 

*  A  misfortune  ?  Surely  the  world  is  turned  upside 
down !  You  will  drive  me  to  despair  about  our 
future   if  you   see    things    so    awry.     Exert   yourself 

205 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


1 


to  do  something,  so  as  to  make  of  this  accident  a' 
stepping-stone  to  higher  things.     The  gentleman  will 
give  us  the  slip  if  we  don't  pursue  the  friendship  at 
once.' 

*  I  cannot  have  you  talk  like  this,'  she  cried  im-| 
patiently.      *  I  have  no  more  thought  of  the  Bishop  thanp 
I  have  of  the  Pope.      I  would  much  rather  not  have 
had  him  here  to  lunch  at  all.     You  said  it  would  be 
necessary  to  do  it,  and  an  opportunity,  and  I  thought 
it   my  duty  to  show  some   hospitality  when    he    was , 
coming  so  near,   Mr.  Torkingham's   house   being    so 
small.      But  of  course   I   understood   that  the  oppor- 
tunity would  be  one  for  you  in  getting  to  know  him, 
your  prospects  being  so  indefinite  at  present ;  not  one 
for  me.' 

*  If  you  don't  follow  up  this  chance  of  being 
spiritual  queen  of  Melchester,  you  will  never  have 
another  of  being  anything.  Mind  this,  Viviette  :  you 
are  not  so  young  as  you  were.  You  are  getting  on 
to  be  a  middle-aged  woman,  and  your  black  hair  is 
precisely  of  the  sort  which  time  quickly  turns  grey. 
You  must  make  up  your  mind  to  grizzled  bachelors 
or  widowers.  Young  marriageable  men  won't  look  at 
you  ;  or  if  they  do  just  now,  in  a  year  or  two  more 
they'll  despise  you  as  an  antiquated  party.' 

Lady  Constantine  perceptibly  paled.  *  Young  men 
what  ?  '  she  asked.     *  Say  that  again.' 

*  I  said  it  was  no  use  to  think  of  young  men  ; 
they  won't  look  at  you  much  longer  ;  or  if  they  do, 
it  will  be  to  look  away  again  very  quickly.' 

*  You  imply  that  if  I  were  to  marry  a  man  younger 
than  myself  he  would  speedily  acquire  a  contempt 
for  me  ?  How  much  younger  must  a  man  be  than 
his  wife — to  get  that  feeling  for  her  ? '  She  was  rest- 
ing her  elbow  on  the  chair  as  she  faintly  spoke  the 
words,  and  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hand. 

'  An  exceedingly  small  number  of  years,'  said  Louis 
drily.  *  Now  the  Bishop  is  at  least  twenty  years 
older  than  you,  and  on  that  account,  no  less  than  on 

206 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

others,  is  an  excellent  match.  You  would  be  head 
of  the  church  in  this  diocese  :  what  more  can  you 
require  after  these  years  of  miserable  obscurity?  In 
addition,  you  would  escape  that  minor  thorn  in  the 
flesh  of  bishops'  wives,  of  being  only  "  Mrs."  while 
their  husbands  are  peers.' 

She  was  not  listening ;  his  previous  observation 
still  detained  her  thoughts. 

*  Louis,'  she  said,  '  in  the  case  of  a  woman  marrying 
a  man  much  younger  than  herself,  does  he  get  to 
dislike  her,  even  if  there  has  been  a  social  advantage 
to  him  in  the  union  ? ' 

*  Yes, — not  a  whit  less.  Ask  any  person  of  ex- 
perience. But  what  of  that  ?  Let's  talk  of  our  own 
affairs.  You  say  you  have  no  thought  of  the  Bishop. 
And  yet  if  he  had  stayed  here  another  day  or  two  he 
would  have  proposed  to  you  straight  off.' 

'  Seriously,  Louis,  I  could  not  accept  him,* 

*  Why  not  ? ' 

*  I  don't  love  him.' 

*  Oh,  oh,  I  like  those  words  ! '  cried  Louis,  throwing 
himself  back  in  his  chair  and  looking  at  the  ceiling 
in  satirical  enjoyment.  'A  woman  who  at  two-and- 
twenty  married  for  convenience,  at  thirty  talks  of  not 
marrying  without  love  ;  the  rule  of  inverse,  that  is, 
in  which  more  requires  less,  and  less  requires  more. 
As  your  only  brother,  older  than  yourself,  and  more 
experienced,  I  insist  that  you  encourage  the  Bishop.' 

'  Don't  quarrel  with  me,  Louis  ! '  she  said  piteously. 
*  We  don't  know  that  he  thinks  anything  of  me, — we 
only  guess.* 

*  I  know  it, — and  you  shall  hear  how  I  know.     I  am 
^  of  a  curious  and  conjectural  nature,  as  you  are  aware. 

Last  night,  when  everybody  had  gone  to  bed,  I  stepped 
out  for  a  five  minutes'  smoke  on  the  lawn,  and  walked 
down  to  where  you  get  near  the  vicarage  windows. 
While  I  was  there  in  the  dark  one  of  them  opened, 
and  Bishop  Helmsdale  leant  out.  The  illuminated 
oblong  of  your  window  shone  him  full  in  the  face  be- 

207 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

tween  the  trees,  and  presently  your  shadow  crossed  it. 
He  waved  his  hand,  and  murmured  some  tender  words, 
though  what  they  were  exactly  I  could  not  hear.* 

•What  a  vague,  imaginary  story, — as  if  he  could 
know  my  shadow !  Besides,  a  man  of  the  Bishop's 
dignity  wouldn't  have  done  such  a  thing.  When  I 
knew  him  as  a  younger  man  he  was  not  at  all  romantic, 
and  he's  not  likely  to  have  grown  so  now.' 

'  That's  just  what  he  is  likely  to  have  done.  No 
lover  is  so  extreme  a  specimen  of  the  species  as  an 
old  lover.  Come,  Viviette,  no  more  of  this  fencing.  I 
have  entered  into  the  project  heart  and  soul — so  much 
that  I  have  postponed  my  departure  till  the  matter  is 
well  under  way.' 

'  Louis — my  dear  Louis — you  will  bring  me  into 
some  disagreeable  position ! '  said  she,  clasping  her 
hands.  *  I  do  entreat  you  not  to  interfere  or  do  any- 
thing rash  about  me.  The  step  is  impossible.  I  have 
something  to  tell  you  some  day.  I  must  live  on,  and 
endure ' 

*  Everything  except  this  penury,'  replied  Louis, 
unmoved.  'Come,  I  have  begun  the  campaign  by 
inviting  Bishop  Helmsdale,  and  I'll  take  the  respon- 
sibility of  carrying  it  on.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  not  to 
make  a  ninny  of  yourself.  Come,  give  me  your 
promise ! ' 

*  No,  I  cannot, — I  don't  know  how  to  !  I  only  know 
one  thing, — that  I  am  in  no  hurry ' 

*  *'  No  hurry "  be  hanged !  Agree,  like  a  good 
sister,  to  charm  the  Bishop.' 

I    must   consider ! '    she   replied,    with  perturbed 
evasiveness. 

It  being  a  fine  evening  Louis  went  out  of  the  house 
to  enjoy  his  cigar  in  the  shrubbery.  On  reaching  his 
favourite  seat  he  found  he  had  left  his  cigar-case 
behind  him ;  he  immediately  returned  for  it.  When 
he  approached  the  window  by  which  he  had  emerged 
he  saw  Swithin  St.  Cleeve  standing  there  in  the  dusk, 
talking  to  Viviette  inside. 

208 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

St.  Cleeve's  back  was  towards  Louis,  but,  whether 
at  a  signal  from  her  or  by  accident,  he  quickly  turned 
and  recognized  Glanville  ;  whereupon  raising  his  hat 
to  Lady  Constantine  the  young  man  passed  along  the 
terrace-walk  and  out  by  the  churchyard  door. 

Louis  rejoined  his  sister.  '  I  didn't  know  you 
allowed  your  lawn  to  be  a  public  thoroughfare  for  the 
parish,'  he  said. 

*  I  am  not  exclusive,  especially  since  I  have  been 
so  poor,'  replied  she. 

*  Then  do  you  let  everybody  pass  this  way,  or  only 
that  illustrious  youth  because  he  is  so  good-looking?* 

*  I  have  no  strict  rule  in  the  case.  Mr.  St.  Cleeve 
is  an  acquaintance  of  mine,  and  he  can  certainly  come 
here  if  he  chooses.'  Her  colour  rose  somewhat,  and 
she  spoke  warmly. 

Louis  was  too  cautious  a  bird  to  reveal  to  her  what 
had  suddenly  dawned  upon  his  mind — that  his  sister, 
in  common  with  the  (to  his  thinking)  unhappy  Tabitha 
Lark,  had  been  foolish  enough  to  get  interested  in  this 
phenomenon  of  the  parish,  this  scientific  Adonis.  But 
he  resolved  to  cure  at  once  her  tender  feeling,  if  it 
existed,  by  letting  out  a  secret  which  would  inflame  her 
dignity  against  the  weakness. 

'  A  good-looking  young  man,*  he  said,  with  his  eyes 
where  Swithin  had  vanished.  *  But  not  so  good  as  he 
looks.      In  fact  a  regular  young  sinner.' 

*  What  do  you  mean  ?  ' 
*Oh,    only    a    little   feature    I    discovered    in    St. 

Cleeve's  history.      But  I   suppose  he  has   a  right   to 
sow  his  wild  oats  as  well  as  other  young  men.' 
'Tell  me  what  you  allude  to, — do,  Louis.* 

*  It  is  hardly  fit  that  I  should.  However,  the  case 
is  amusing  enough.  I  was  sitting  in  the  arbour  to-day, 
and  was  an  unwilling  listener  to  the  oddest  interview 
I  ever  heard  of.  Our  friend  the  Bishop  discovered, 
when  we  visited  the  observatory  last  night,  that  our 

i^      astronomer  was  not  alone  in   his   seclusion.     A  lady 
shared  his  romantic  cabin  with  him  ;  and  finding  this, 

209 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the  Bishop  naturally  enough  felt  that  the  ordinance  of 
confirmation  had  been  profaned.  So  his  lordship  sent 
for  Master  Swithin  this  morning,  and  meeting  him  in 
the  churchyard  read  him  such  an  excommunicating 
lecture  as  I  warrant  he  won't  forget  in  his  lifetime. 
Ha-ha-ha!     *Twas  very  good, — very.' 

He  watched  her  face  narrowly  while  he  spoke  with 
such  seeming  carelessness.  Instead  of  the  agitation 
of  jealousy  that  he  had  expected  to  be  aroused  by  this 
hint  of  another  woman  in  the  case,  there  was  a  curious 
expression,  more  like  embarrassment  than  anything 
else  which  might  have  been  fairly  attributed  to  the 
subject.  *  Can  it  be  that  I  am  mistaken  ? '  he  asked 
himself. 

The  possibility  that  he  might  be  mistaken  restored 
Louis  to  good-humour,  and  lights  having  been  brought 
he  sat  with  his  sister  for  some  time,  talking  with  pur- 
pose of  Swithin's  low  rank  on  one  side,  and  the  sordid 
struggles  that  might  be  in  store  for  him.  St.  Cleeve 
being  in  the  unhappy  case  of  deriving  his  existence 
through  two  channels  of  society,  it  resulted  that  he 
seemed  to  belong  to  either  this  or  that  according  to 
the  altitude  of  the  beholder.  Louis  threw  the  light 
entirely  on  Swithin's  agricultural  side,  bringing  out  old 
Mrs.  Martin  and  her  connexions  and  her  ways  of  life 
with  luminous  distinctness,  till  Lady  Constantine 
became  greatly  depressed.  She,  in  her  hopefulness, 
had  almost  forgotten,  latterly,  that  the  bucolic  element, 
so  incisively  represented  by  Messrs.  Hezzy  Biles, 
Haymoss  Fry,  Sammy  Blore,  and  the  rest  entered 
into  his  condition  at  all ;  to  her  he  had  been  the  son  of 
his  academic  father  alone. 

But  she  would  not  reveal  the  depression  to  which 
she  had  been  subjected  by  this  resuscitation  of  the 
homely  half  of  poor  Swithin,  presently  putting  an  end 
to  the  subject  by  walking  hither  and  thither  about  the 
room. 

*  What  have  you  lost  ? '  said  Louis,  observing  her 
movements. 

210 


I 


^, 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Nothing  of  consequence, — a  bracelet* 

*  Coral  ?  '  he  inquired  calmly. 
'Yes.      How  did  you  know  it  was  coral  ?     You  have 

never  seen  it,  have  you  ?  ' 

He  was  about  to  make  answer ;  but  the  amazed 
enlightenment  which  her  announcement  had  produced 
in  him  through  knowing  where  the  Bishop  had  found 
such  an  article,  led  him  to  reconsider  himself.  Then, 
like  an  astute  man,  by  no  means  sure  of  the  dimensions 
of  the  intrigue  he  might  be  uncovering,  he  said  care- 
j^^llessly,  *I  found  such  a  one  in  the  churchyard  to-day. 
But  I  thought  it  appeared  to  be  of  no  great  rarity, 
and  I  gave  it  to  one  of  the  village  girls  who  were 
passing  by.' 

*  Did  she  take  it  ?  Who  was  she  ? '  said  the  unsus- 
pecting Viviette. 

'  Really,  I  don't  remember.  I  suppose  it  is  of  no 
consequence  ? ' 

'  O  no ;  its  value  is  nothing,  comparatively.  It  was 
only  one  of  a  pair  such  as  young  girls  wear.'  Lady 
Constantine  could  not  add  that,  in  spite  of  this,  she 
herself  valued  it  as  having  been  Swithin's  present,  and 
the  best  he  could  afford. 

Panic-struck  by  his  ruminations,  although  revealing 
nothing  by  his  manner,  Louis  soon  after  went  up  to 
his  room,  professedly  to  write  letters.  He  gave  vent 
to  a  low  w^histle  when  he  was  out  of  hearing.  He  of 
course  remembered  perfectly  well  to  whom  he  had 
given  the  corals,  and  resolved  to  seek  out  Tabitha  the 
next  morning  to  ascertain  whether  she  could  possibly 
have  owned  such  a  trinket  as  well  as  his  sister, — which 
at  present  he  very  greatly  doubted,  though  fervently 
hoping  that  she  might. 


XXIX 

The  effect  upon  Swithin  of  the  Interview  with  the 
Bishop  had  been  a  very  marked  one.  He  felt  that  he 
had  good  ground  for  resenting  that  dignitary's  tone  in 
haughtily  assuming  that  all  must  be  sinful  which  at  the 
first  blush  appeared  to  be  so,  and  in  narrowly  refusing 
a  young  man  the  benefit  of  a  single  doubt.  Swithin's 
assurance  that  he  would  be  able  to  explain  all  some 
day  had  been  taken  in  contemptuous  incredulity. 

*  He  may  be  as  virtuous  as  his  prototype  Timothy  ; 
but  he's  an  opinionated  old  fogey  all  the  same,'  said 
St.  Cleeve  petulantly. 

Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  Swithin's  nature  was  so 
fresh  and  ingenuous,  notwithstanding  that  recent  affairs  i 
had  somewhat  denaturalized  him,  that  for  a  man  in  the 
Bishop's   position   to   think  him   immoral   was  almost: 
as  overwhelming  as  if  he  had  actually  been  so,  and  at 
moments  he  could  scarcely  bear  existence  under  so 
gross  a  suspicion.     What  was  his  union  with   Lady 
Constantine  worth  to  him  when,  by  reason  of  it,  he 
was  thought  a  reprobate  by  almost  the  only  man  who 
had  professed  to  take  an  interest  in  him  ? 

Certainly,  by  contrast  with  his  air-built  image  of 
himself  as  a  worthy  astronomer,  received  by  all  the! 
world,  and  the  envied  husband  of  Viviette,  the  present : 
imputation  was  humiliating.  The  glorious  light  of! 
this  tender  and  refined  passion  seemed  to  have  become  i 
debased  to  burlesque  hues  by  pure  accident,  and  his 
aesthetic  no  less  than  his  ethic  taste  was  offended  by 
such  an  anti-climax.     He  who  had  soared  amid  the 

212 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

remotest  grandeurs  of  nature  had  been  taken  to  task 
on  a  rudimentary  question  of  morals,  which  had  never 
been  a  question  with  him  at  all.  This  was  what  the 
exigencies  of  an  awkward  attachment  had  brought  him 
to ;  but  he  blamed  the  circumstances,  and  not  for  one 
moment  Lady  Constantine. 

Having  now  set  his  heart  against  a  longer  con- 
cealment he  was  disposed  to  think  that  an  excellent 
way  of  beginning  a  revelation  of  their  marriage  would 
be  by  writing  a  confidential  letter  to  the  Bishop, 
detailing  the  whole  case.  But  it  was  impossible  to  do 
this  on  his  own  responsibility.  He  still  recognized  the 
understanding  entered  into  with  Viviette,  before  the 
marriage,  to  be  as  binding  as  ever, — that  the  initiative 
in  disclosing  their  union  should  come  from  her.  Yet 
he  hardly  doubted  that  she  would  take  that  initiative 
when  he  told  her  of  his  extraordinary  reprimand  in  the 
churchyard. 

This  was  what  he  had  come  to  do  when  Louis  saw 
him  standing  at  the  window.  But  before  he  had  said 
half-a-dozen  words  to  Viviette  she  motioned  him  to  go 
on,  which  he  mechanically  did,  ere  he  could  sufficiently 
collect  his  thoughts  on  its  advisability  or  otherwise. 
He  did  not,  however,  go  far.  While  Louis  and  his 
sister  were  discussing  him  in  the  drawing-room  he 
lingered  musing  in  the  churchyard,  hoping  that  she 
might  be  able  to  escape  and  join  him  in  the  consultation 
he  so  earnestly  desired. 

She  at  last  found  opportunity  to  do  this.     As  soon 

as  Louis  had  left  the  room  and  shut  himself  in  upstairs 

she  ran  out  by  the  window  in  the  direction  Swithin  had 

taken.     When  her  footsteps  began  crunching  on  the 

L  gravel  he  came  forw^ard  from  the  churchyard  door. 

They  embraced  each  other  in  haste,  and  then, 
in  a  few  short  panting  words,  she  explained  to  him 
that  her  brother  had  heard  and  witnessed  the  interview 
on  that  spot  between  himself  and  the  Bishop,  and  had 
told  her  the  substance  of  the  Bishop's  accusation,  not 
knowing  she  was  the  woman  in  the  cabin. 

213 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  And  what  I  cannot  understand  is  this,*  she  added  ; 
'  how  did  the  Bishop  discover  that  the  person  behind 
the  bed-curtains  was  a  woman  and  not  a  man  ? ' 

Swithin  explained  that  the  Bishop  had  found  the 
bracelet  on  the  bed,  and  had  brought  it  to  him  in  the 
churchyard. 

*  O  Swithin,  what  do  you  say  ?  Found  the  coral 
bracelet  ?     What  did  you  do  with  it  ? ' 

Swithin  clapped  his  hand  to  his  pocket. 

*  Dear  me !  I  recollect — I  left  it  where  it  lay  on 
Reuben  Heath's  tombstone.' 

*  O  my  dear,  dear  Swithin ! '  she  cried  miserably. 
*You  have  compromised  me  by  your  forgetfulness. 
I  have  claimed  the  article  as  mine.  My  brother  did 
not  tell  me  that  the  Bishop  brought  it  from  the  cabin. 
What  can  I,  can  I  do,  that  neither  the  Bishop  nor 
my  brother  may  conclude  /  was  the  woman  there  ? ' 

*  But  if  we  announce  our  marriage ' 

*  Even  as  your  wife,  the  position  was  too  undignified 
— too  I  don't  know  what — for  me  ever  to  admit  that  I 
was  there !  Right  or  wrong,  I  must  declare  the  brace- 
let was  not  mine.  Such  an  escapade — why,  it  would 
make  me  ridiculous  in  the  county  ;  and  anything  rather 
than  that ! ' 

*  I  was  in  hope  that  you  would  agree  to  let  our 
marriage  be  known,'  said  Swithin,  with  some  dis- 
appointment. *  I  thought  that  these  circumstances 
would  make  the  reason  for  doing  so  doubly  strong.' 

'Yes.  But  there  are,  alas,  reasons  against  it  still 
stronger!     Let  me  have  my  way.' 

*  Certainly,  dearest.  I  promised  that  before  you 
agreed  to  be  mine.  My  reputation — what  is  it  ! 
Perhaps  I  shall  be  dead  and  forgotten  before  the  next 
transit  of  Venus  ! ' 

She  soothed  him  tenderly,  but  could  not  tell  him 
why  she  felt  the  reasons  against  any  announcement  as 
yet  to  be  stronger  than  those  in  favour  of  it.  How 
could  she,  when  her  feeling  had  been  cautiously  fed; 
and  developed  by   her   brother    Louis's   unvarnished^ 

214 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

exhibition  of  Swithin's  material  position  in  the  eyes 
of  the  world  ? — that  of  a  young  man,  the  scion  of  a 
family  of  farmers  recently  her  tenants,  living  at  the 
homestead  with  his  grandmother,  Mrs.  Martin. 

To  soften  her  refusal  she  said  in  declaring  it,  '  One 
concession,  Swithin,  I  certainly  will  make.  I  will  see 
you  oftener.  I  will  come  to  the  cabin  and  tower  fre- 
quently ;  and  will  contrive,  too,  that  you  come  to  the 
house  occasionally.  During  the  last  winter  we  passed 
whole  weeks  without  meeting ;  don't  let  us  allow  that 
to  happen  again.' 

*  Very  well,  dearest,'  said  Swithin  good-humouredly. 
'  I  don't  care  so  terribly  much  for  the  old  man's  opinion 
of  me,  after  all.  For  the  present,  then,  let  things  be 
as  they  are.' 

Nevertheless,  the  youth  felt  her  refusal  more  than 
he  owned  ;  but  the  unequal  temperament  of  Swithin's 
I  age,  so  soon  depressed  on  his  own  account,  was  also 
soon  to  recover  on  hers,  and  it  was  with  almost  a 
child's  forgetfulness  of  the  past  that  he  took  her  view 
of  the  case. 

When  he  was  gone  she  hastily  re-entered  the  house. 
Her  brother  had  not  reappeared  from  upstairs  ;  but  she 
was  informed  that  Tabitha  Lark  was  waiting  to  see 
her,  if  her  ladyship  would  pardon  the  said  Tabitha  for 
coming  so  late.  Lady  Constantine  made  no  objection, 
and  saw  the  young  girl  at  once. 

When  Lady  Constantine  entered  the  waiting-room, 
behold,  in  Tabitha's  outstretched  hand  lay  the  coral 
ornament  which  had  been  causing  Viviette  so  much 
anxiety. 

*  I  guessed,  on  second  thoughts,  that  it  w^as  yours, 
i^my  lady,'  said  Tabitha,  with  rather  a  frightened  face ; 

'and  so  I  have  brought  it  back.' 

'  But  how  did  you  come  by  it,  Tabitha  ?  * 

*  Mr.  Glanville  gave  it  to  me  ;  he  must  have  thought 
it  was  mine.  I  took  it,  fancying  at  the  moment  that 
he  handed  it  to  me  because  I  happened  to  come  by 
first  after  he  had  found  it.' 

215 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Lady  Constantine  saw  how  the  situation  might  be 
improved  so  as  to  effect  her  deliverance  from  this 
troublesome  little  web  of  evidence. 

*0,  you  can  keep  it,'  she  said  brightly.  *  It  was 
very  good  of  you  to  bring  it  back.  But  keep  it  for 
your  very  own.  Take  Mr.  Glanville  at  his  word,  and 
don^  explain.  And,  Tabitha,  divide  the  strands  into 
two  bracelets ;  there  are  enough  of  them  to  make 
a  pair.* 

The  next  morning,  in  pursuance  of  his  resolution, 
Louis  wandered  round  the  grounds  till  he  saw  the  girl 
for  whom  he  was  waiting  enter  the  church.  He  ac- 
costed her  over  the  wall.  But,  puzzling  to  view,  a 
coral  bracelet  blushed  on  each  of  her  young  arms,  for 
she  had  promptly  carried  out  the  suggestion  of  Lady 
Constantine. 

*  You  are  wearing  it,  I  see,  Tabitha,  with  the  other,' 
he  murmured.      '  Then  you  mean  to  keep  it  } ' 

'  Of  course,  I  mean  to  keep  what's  mine.' 

*  You  are  sure  it  is  not  Lady  Constantine's  ?  I  find 
she  has  one  like  it.' 

*  Quite  sure.  But  if  you  doubt  me  you  had  better 
take  it  to  her,  sir,  and  ask  her,'  said  the  saucy  girl. 

*  O  no ;  that's  not  necessary,'  replied  Louis,  con- 
siderably shaken  in  his  convictions. 

When  Louis  met  his  sister,  a  short  time  after,  he- 
did  not  catch  her,  as  he  had  intended  to  do,  by  saying, 
suddenly,  '  I  have  found  your  bracelet.  I  know  who: 
has  got  it.* 

*  You  cannot  have  found  it,'  she  replied  quietly,  *  fori 
I  have  discovered  that  it  was  never  lost,'  and  stretch- 
ing out  both  her  hands  she  revealed  one  on  each, 
Viviette  having  performed  the  same  operation  with  herl 
remaining  bracelet  that  she  had  advised  Tabitha  to  d< 
with  the  other. 

Louis  was  mystified,  but  by  no  means  convinced.! 
In   spite  of  this   attempt  to  hoodwink  him  his  min( 
returned  to  the  subject  every  hour  of  the  day.     Then 
was  no  doubt  that  either  Tabitha  or  Viviette  had  beeni 

216 


lali 
tion 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

^Ik  with  Swithin  in  the  cabin.  He  recapitulated  every  case 
tlis  that  had  occurred  during  his  visit  to  Welland  in  which 
his  sister's  manner  had  been  of  a  colour  to  justify  the 
^al suspicion  that  it  was  she.  There  was  that  strange  in- 
01  cident  in  the  corridor,  when  she  had  screamed  at  what 
ant  she  described  to  be  a  shadowy  resemblance  to  her  late 
intc  husband  ;  how  very  improbable  that  this  fancy  should 
have  been  the  only  cause  of  her  agitation !  Then  he 
had  noticed,  during  Swithin's  confirmation,  a  blush 
upon  her  cheek  when  he  passed  her  on  his  way  to  the 
]ii  Bishop,  and  the  fervour  in  her  glance  during  the  few 
acl  moments  of  the  imposition  of  hands.  Then  he  sud- 
denly recalled  the  night  at  the  railway  station,  when  the 
,fo  accident  with  the  whip  took  place,  and  how,  when  he 
i  reached  Welland  House  an  hour  later,  he  had  found  no 
Viviette  there.  Running  thus  from  incident  to  incident 
he  increased  his  suspicions  without  being  able  to  cull 
from  the  circumstances  anything  amounting  to  evidence; 
Ibut  evidence  he  now  determined  to  acquire  without 
■  '  saying  a  word  to  any  one. 

His  plan  was  of  a  cruel  kind  :  to  set  a  trap  into 
which  the  pair  would  blindly  walk  if  any  secret  under- 
standing existed  between  them  of  the  nature  he  sus- 
pected. 


wk 


cer, 


illti 


XXX 

Louis  began  his  stratagem  by  calling  at  the  tower 
one  afternoon,  as  if  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment. 

After  a  friendly  chat  with  Swithin,  whom  he  found 
there  (having  watched  him  enter),  Louis  invited  the 
young  man  to  dine  the  same  evening  at  the  House, 
that  he  might  have  an  opportunity  of  showing  him 
some  interesting  old  scientific  works  in  folio,  which, 
according  to  Louis's  account,  he  had  stumbled  on  in 
the  library.  Louis  set  no  great  bait  for  St.  Cleeve  inr 
this  statement,  for  old  science  was  not  old  art  which,i 
having  perfected  itself,  has  died  and  left  its  secret 
hidden  in  its  remains.  But  Swithin  was  a  responsive* 
fellow,  and  readily  agreed  to  come  ;  being,  moreover, 
always  glad  of  a  chance  of  meeting  Viviette  en  famille. 
He  hoped  to  tell  her  of  a  scheme  that  had  lately  sug- 
gested itself  to  him  as  likely  to  benefit  them  both: 
that  he  should  go  away  for  a  while,  and  endeavour  to 
raise  sufficient  funds  to  visit  the  great  observatories  of 
Europe,  with  an  eye  to  a  post  in  one  of  them.  Hithertc 
the  only  bar  to  the  plan  had  been  the  exceeding 
narrowness  of  his  income,  which,  though  sufficient  foi 
his  present  life,  was  absolutely  inadequate  to  the 
requirements  of  a  travelling  astronomer. 

Meanwhile  Louis  Glanville  had  returned  to  the 
House  and  told  his  sister  in  the  most  innocent  mannei 
that  he  had  been  in  the  company  of  St.  Cleeve  tha 
afternoon,  getting  a  few  wrinkles  on  astronomy ;  tha 
they  had  grown  so  friendly  over  the  fascinating 
subject  as  to  leave  him  no  alternative  but   to  invit( 

218 


)'JC| 


hill 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

St.  Cleeve  to  dine  at  Welland  the  same  evening, 
with  a  view  to  certain  researches  in  the  library 
afterwards. 

*  I  could  quite  make  allowances  for  any  youthful 
errors  into  which  he  may  have  been  betrayed,'  Louis 
continued  sententiously,  'since,  for  a  scientist,  he  is 
really  admirable.  No  doubt  the  Bishop's  caution  will 
not  be  lost  upon  him  ;  and  as  for  his  birth  and  con- 
nexions— those  he  can't  help.' 

Il       Lady  Constantine  showed  such  alacrity  in  adopting 

|lthe  idea  of  having  Swithin  to  dinner,  and  she  ignored 
his  'youthful  errors'  so  completely,  as  almost  to  be- 
tray herself.  In  fulfilment  of  her  promise  to  see  him 
oftener  she  had  been  intending  to  run  across  to 
Swithin  on  that  identical  evening.  Now  the  trouble 
would  be  saved  in  a  very  delightful  way  by  the  exer- 
cise of  a  little  hospitality  which  Viviette  herself  would 
not  have  dared  to  suggest. 

Dinner-time  came  and  with  it  Swithin,  exhibiting 
rather  a  blushing  and  nervous  manner  that  was,  unfor- 
tunately, more  likely  to  betray  their  cause  than  was 

!  Viviette's  own  more  practised  bearing.  Throughout 
the  meal  Louis  sat  like  a  spider  in  the  corner  of 
his  web,  observing  them  narrowly,  and  at  moments 
flinging  out  an  artful  thread  here  and  there,  with  a 
view  to  their  entanglement.  But  they  underwent 
the  ordeal  marvellously  w^ell.  Perhaps  the  actual  tie 
between  them,  through  being  so  much  closer  and  of  so 
much  more  practical  a  nature  than  even  their  critic 
supposed  it,  was  in  itself  a  protection  against  their 
exhibiting  that  ultra-reciprocity  of  manner  which,  if 
they  had  been   merely  lovers,  might   have   betrayed 

Lthem. 

After  dinner  the  trio  duly  adjourned  to  the  library 
as  had  been  planned,  and  the  volumes  were  brought 

I  forth  by  Louis  with  the  zest  of  a  bibliophilist.  Swithin 
had  seen  most  of  them  before,  and  thought  but  little  of 
them  ;  but  the  pleasure  of  staying  in  the  house  made 
him  welcome  any  reason  for  doing  so,  and  he  willingly 

219 


[iii 
[111 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

looked  at  whatever  was  put  before  him,  from  Bertius's 
Ptolemy  to  Rees's  Cyclopaedia. 

The  evening  thus  passed  away,  and  it  began  to 
grow  late.  Swithin  who,  among  other  things,  had 
planned  to  go  to  Greenwich  next  day  to  view  the 
Royal  Observatory,  would  every  now  and  then  start  i 
up  and  prepare  to  leave  for  home,  when  Glanville 
would  unearth  some  other  volume  and  so  detain  him 
yet  another  half-hour. 

*  By  George ! '  he  said,  looking  at  the  clock  when 
Swithin  was  at  last  really  about  to  depart.  *  I  didn't 
know  it  was  so  late.  Why  not  stay  here  to-night,  St. 
Cleeve  ?  It  is  very  dark,  and  the  way  to  your  place 
is  an  awkward  cross-cut  over  the  fields.' 

*  It  would  not  inconvenience  us  at  all,  Mr.  St. 
Cleeve,  if  you  would  care  to  stay,'  said  Lady^ 
Constantine. 

*  I  am  afraid — the  fact  is,  I  wanted  to  take  anr 
observation  at  twenty  minutes  past  two,'  begani 
Swithin. 

*  O,  now,  never  mind  your  observation,'  said  Louis,* 
*  That's  only  an  excuse.  Do  that  to-morrow  night. 
Now  you  will  stay.  It  is  settled.  Viviette,  say  he 
must  stay,  and  we'll  have  another  hour  of  these 
charming  intellectual  researches.' 

Viviette  obeyed  with  delightful  ease.  *  Do  stay, 
Mr.  St.  Cleeve ! '  she  said  sweetly. 

*  Well,  in  truth  I  can  do  without  the  observation,' 
replied  the  young  man  as  he  gave  way.  '  It  is  not  of 
the  greatest  consequence.' 

Thus  it  was  arranged  ;  but  the  researches  among 
the  tomes  were  not  prolonged  to  the  extent  that  Louis 
had  suggested.  In  three-quarters  of  an  hour  fromi 
that  time  they  had  all  retired  to  their  respective 
rooms ;  Lady  Constantine's  being  on  one  side  of  the 
west  corridor,  Swithin's  opposite,  and  Louis's  at  the 
further  end. 

Had  a  person  followed  Louis  when  he  withdrew, 
that   watcher    would    have    discovered,    on    peeping 

220 


u 


ii 


m 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

through  the  key-hole  of  his  door,  that  he  was  engaged 
in  one  of  the  oddest  of  occupations  for  such  a  man, — 
sweeping  down  from  the  ceiHng,  by  means  of  a  walking- 
cane,  a  long  cobweb  which  lingered  on  high  in  the 
corner.  Keeping  it  stretched  upon  the  cane  he  gently 
opened  the  door,  and  set  the  candle  in  such  a  position 
on  the  mat  that  the  light  shone  down  the  corridor. 
Thus  guided  by  its  rays  he  passed  out  slipperless,  till 
I  he  reached  the  door  of  St.  Cleeve's  room,  where  he 
' '  applied  the  dangling  spider's  thread  in  such  a  manner 
that  it  stretched  across  like  a  tight-rope  from  jamb  to 
jamb,  barring,  in  its  fragile  way,  entrance  and  egress. 
The  operation  completed  he  retired  again,  and,  extin- 
guishing his  light,  went  through  his  bedroom  window 
out  upon  the  flat  roof  of  the  portico  to  which  it  gave 
access. 

Here  Louis  made  himself  comfortable  in  his  chair 
and  smoking-cap,  enjoying  the  fragrance  of  a  cigar  for 
something  like  half-an-hour.  His  position  commanded 
a  view  of  the  two  windows  of  Lady  Constantine's 
room,  and  from  these  a  dim  light  shone  continuously. 
Having  the  window  partly  open  at  his  back,  and  the 
door  of  his  room  also  scarcely  closed,  his  ear  retained 
a  fair  command  of  any  noises  that  might  be  made. 

In  due  time  faint  movements  became  audible ; 
whereupon,  returning  to  his  room,  he  re-entered  the 
corridor  and  listened  intently.  All  was  silent  again, 
and  darkness  reigned  from  end  to  end.  Glanville, 
however,  groped  his  way  along  the  passage  till  he 
again  reached  Swithin's  door,  where  he  examined,  by 
the  light  of  a  wax-match  he  had  brought,  the  condition 
of  the  spider's  thread.  It  was  gone  ;  somebody  had 
^  carried  it  off  bodily,  as  Samson  carried  off  the  pin 
and  the  web.  In  other  words,  a  person  had  passed 
through  the  door. 

Still  holding  the  faint  wax-light  in  his  hand  Louis 
turned  to  the  door  of  Lady  Constantine's  chamber, 
where  he  observed  first  that,  though  it  was  pushed 
together  so  as  to  appear   fastened   to  cursory  view, 

221 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

1 
the  door  was  not  really  closed  by  about  a  quarter  of 

an  inch.      He  dropped  his  light  and  extinguished  it 

with  his  foot.     Listening  he  heard  a  voice  within — 

Viviette's  voice,  in  a  subdued  murmur,  though  speaking 

earnestly.  ^^ 

Without  any  hesitation  Louis  then  returned  to 
Swithin's  door,  opened  it,  and  walked  in.  The  star- 
light from  without  was  sufficient,  now  that  his  eyes 
had  become  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  to  reveal  that 
the  room  was  unoccupied,  and  that  nothing  therein 
had  been  disturbed.  j^  (( 

With  a  heavy  tread  Louis  came  forth,  walked  loudly 
across  the  corridor,  knocked  at  Lady  Constantine's 
door,  and  called  *  Viviette  ! ' 

She  heard  him  instantly,  replying  '  Yes '  in  startled 
tones.  Immediately  afterwards  she  opened  her  door, 
and  confronted  him  in  her  dressing-gown,  with  a  light 
in  her  hand.     '  What  is  the  matter,  Louis  ? '  she  said. 

*  I  am  greatly  alarmed.     Our  visitor  is  missing.' 

*  Missing?     What,  Mr.  St.  Cleeve?* 
'Yes.     I  was  sitting  up  to  finish  a  cigar,  when  I 

thought  I  heard  a  noise  in  this  direction.  On  coming 
to  his  room  I  find  he  is  not  there.' 

'Good  Heaven!  I  wonder  what  has  happened!* 
she  exclaimed,  in  apparently  intense  alarm. 

*  I  wonder,'  said  Glanville  grimly. 
'Suppose  he   is  a  somnambulist!     If  so,  he  may 

have  gone  out  and  broken  his  neck.  I  have  never 
heard  that  he  is  one,  but  they  say  that  sleeping  in 
strange  places  disturbs  the  minds  of  people  who  are 
given  to  that  sort  of  thing,  and  provokes  them  to  it.' 

*  Unfortunately  for  your  theory  his  bed  has  not 
been  touched.' 

*  O,  what  then  can  it  be  ?  * 
Her  brother  looked  her  full  in  the  face.    *  Viviette!* 

he  said  sternly. 

She  seemed  puzzled.  *  Well  ? '  she  replied,  in 
simple  tones. 

*  I  heard  voices  in  your  room,'  he  continued. 

222 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Voices  ? ' 

*  A  voice, — yours.' 

*  Yes,  you  may  have  done  so.     It  was  mine.' 
'  A  listener  is  required  for  a  speaker.' 
*True,  Louis.' 

*  Well,  to  whom  were  you  speaking  ?  * 

*  To  God.' 

*  Viviette  !  I  am  ashamed  of  you.* 

*  I  was  saying  my  prayers.' 

*  Prayers — to  God  !     To  St.  Swithin,  rather  !  * 
'  What  do  you  mean,  Louis  ? '  she  asked,  flushing 

up  warm,  and  drawing  back  from  him.  '  It  was  a  form 
of  prayer  I  use,  particularly  when  I  am  in  trouble.  It 
was  recommended  to  me  by  the  Bishop,  and  Mr. 
Torkingham  commends  it  very  highly.' 

*  On  your  honour,  if  you  have  any,'  he  said  bitterly, 
*  whom  have  you  there  in  your  room  ? ' 

*  No  human  being.' 

*  Flatly,  I  don't  believe  you.* 
She  gave  a  dignified  little  bow,  and,  waving  her 

hand  into  the  apartment,  said,  *  Very  well ;  then  search 
and  see.' 

Louis  entered,  and  glanced  round  the  room,  behind 
the  curtains,  under  the  bed,  out  of  the  window— a 
view  from  which  showed  that  escape  thence  would 
have  been  impossible, — everywhere,  in  short,  capable 
or  incapable  of  affording  a  retreat  to  humanity  ;  but 
discovered  nobody.  All  he  observed  was  that  a  light 
stood  on  the  low  table  by  her  bedside ;  that  on  the 
bed  lay  an  open  Prayer-Book,  the  counterpane  being 
unpressed,  except  into  a  little  pit  beside  the  Prayer- 
Book,  apparently  where  her  head  had  rested  in 
J^kneeling. 

*  But  where  is  St.  Cleeve  ?  *  he  said,  turning 
in  bewilderment  from  these  evidences  of  innocent 
devotion. 

'  Where  can  he  be  ?  *  she  chimed  in,  with  real  dis- 
tress.    *  I  should  so  much  like  to  know.     Look  about 
I    for  him.     I  am  quite  uneasy ! ' 
223 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  I  will,  on  one  condition  :  that  you  own  that  you 
love  him/ 

'  Why  should  you  force  me  to  that  ?  *  she  murmured, 

*  It  would  be  no  such  wonder  if  I  did.' 

*  Come,  you  do.* 
'Well,  I  do.' 

*  Now  I'll  look  for  him.* 
Louis  took  a  light  and  turned  away,   astonished 

that  she  had  not  indignantly  resented  his  intrusion  and 
the  nature  of  his  questioning. 

At  this  moment  a  slight  noise  was  heard  on  thai 
staircase,  and  they  could  see  a  figure  rising  step  by  ' 
step,  and  coming  forward  against  the  long  lights  of 
the  staircase  window.  It  was  S within,  in  his  ordinary 
dress,  and  carrying  his  boots  in  his  hand.  When  he 
beheld  them  standing  there  so  motionless,  he  looked 
rather  disconcerted,  but  came  on  towards  his  room. 

Lady  Constantine  was  too  agitated  to  speak,  but 
Louis  said,  *  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again.  Hearing  a 
noise  a  few  minutes  ago  I  came  out  to  learn  what  it 
could  be.  I  found  you  absent,  and  we  have  been  very 
much  alarmed.' 

*  I   am  very  sorry,*  said  Swithin,  with  contrition. 

*  I  owe  you  a  hundred  apologies :  but  the  truth  is 
that  on  entering  my  bedroom  I  found  the  sky  remark- 
ably clear,  and  though  I  told  you  that  the  observation 
I  was  to  make  was  of  no  great  consequence,  on 
thinking  it  over  alone  I  felt  it  ought  not  to  be  allowed 
to  pass ;  so  I  was  tempted  to  run  across  to  the 
observatory,  and  make  it,  as  I  had  hoped,  without 
disturbing  anybody.  If  I  had  known  that  I  should 
alarm  you  I  would  not  have  done  it  for  the  world.' 

Swithin  spoke  very  earnestly  to  Louis,  and  did  not  ^ 
observe  the  tender  reproach  in  Viviette's  eyes  when 
he  showed  by  his  tale  his   decided  notion   that  the 
prime  use  of  dark  nights  lay  in  applying  them  to  the 
furtherance  of  practical  astronomy. 

Everything  being  now  satisfactorily  explained  the 
three  retired  to   their   several  chambers,   and   Louis 

224 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

)^|  heard  no  more  noises  that  night,  or  rather  morning; 
his  attempts  to  solve  the  mystery  of  Viviette's  \i(Q 
here  and  her  relations  with  St.  Cleeve  having  thus 
far  resulted  chiefly  in  perplexity.  True,  an  admission 
had  been  wrung  from  her ;  and  even  without  such 
an  admission  it  was  clear  that  she  had  a  tender  feeling 
for  Swithin.  How  to  extinguish  that  romantic  folly  it 
now  became  his  object  to  consider. 


rk. 


lOf 


XXXI 

Swithin's  midnight  excursion  to  the  tower  in  the 
cause  of  science  led  him  to  oversleep  himself,  and 
when  the  brother  and  sister  met  at  breakfast  in  the 
morning  he  did  not  appear. 

'  Don't  disturb  him, — don't  disturb  him,'  said  Louis 
laconically.  *  Hullo,  Viviette,  what  are  you  reading 
there  that  makes  you  flame  up  so  ? ' 

She  was  glancing  over  a  letter  that  she  had  just 
opened,  and  at  his  words  looked  up  with  misgiving. 

The  incident  of  the  previous  night  left  her  in 
great  doubt  as  to  what  her  bearing  towards  him  ought 
to  be.  She  had  made  no  show  of  resenting  his 
conduct  at  the  time,  from  a  momentary  supposition 
that  he  must  know  all  her  secret ;  and  afterwards, 
finding  that  he  did  not  know  it,  it  seemed  too  late  to 
affect  indignation  at  his  suspicions.  So  she  preserved 
a  quiet  neutrality.  Even  had  she  resolved  on  an 
artificial  part  she  might  have  forgotten  to  play  it  at 
this  instant,  the  letter  being  of  a  kind  to  banish 
previous  considerations. 

*  It  is  a  letter  from  Bishop  Helmsdale,'  she  faltered. 

*  Well  done !     I  hope  for  your  sake  it  is  an  offer.* 

*  That's  just  what  it  is.' 

*  No, — surely  ?  '  said  Louis,  beginning  a  laugh  of 
surprise. 

*Yes,'  she  returned  indifferently.  'You  can  read 
it,  if  you  like.' 

*  I  don't  wish  to  pry  into  a  communication  of  that 
sort* 

226 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER" 

*Oh,  you  may  read  it,'  she  said,  tossing  the  letter 
across  to  him. 

Louis  thereupon  read  as  under : — 

The  Palace,  Melchester, 
June  28,  18 — . 

My  dear  Lady  Constantine — During  the  two  or 
three  weeks  that  have  elapsed  since  I  experienced  the  great 
pleasure  of  renewing  my  acquaintance  with  you,  the  varied 
agitation  of  my  feelings  has  clearly  proved  that  my  only 
course  is  to  address  you  by  letter,  and  at  once.  Whether  the 
subject  of  my  communication  be  acceptable  to  you  or  not,  I 
can  at  least  assure  you  that  to  suppress  it  would  be  far  less 
natural,  and  upon  the  whole  less  advisable,  than  to  speak  out 
frankly,  even  if  afterwards  I  hold  my  peace  for  ever. 

The  great  change  in  my  experience  during  the  past  year 
or  two — the  change,  that  is,  which  has  resulted  from  my 
advancement  to  a  bishopric — has  frequently  suggested  to  me, 
of  late,  that  a  discontinuance  in  my  domestic  life  of  the 
solitude  of  past  years  was  a  question  which  ought  to  be 
seriously  contemplated.  But  whether  I  should  ever  have 
contemplated  it  without  the  great  good  fortune  of  my  meeting 
with  you  is  doubtful.  However,  the  thing  has  been  considered 
at  last,  and  without  more  ado  I  candidly  ask  if  you  would  be 
willing  to  give  up  your  life  at  Welland,  and  relieve  my  house- 
hold loneliness  here  by  becoming  my  wife. 

I  am  far  from  desiring  to  force  a  hurried  decision  on  your 
part,  and  will  wait  your  good  pleasure  patiently,  should  you 
feel  any  uncertainty  at  the  moment  as  to  the  step.  I  am 
quite  disqualified,  by  habits  and  experience,  for  the  delightful 
procedure  of  urging  my  suit  in  the  ardent  terms  which  would 
be  so  appropriate  towards  such  a  lady,  and  so  expressive  of 
my  inmost  feeling.  In  truth,  a  prosy  cleric  of  one-and-fifty 
wants  encouragement  to  make  him  eloquent.  Of  this,  how- 
ever, I  can  assure  you :  that  if  admiration,  esteem,  and 
devotion  can  compensate  in  any  way  for  the  lack  of  those 
qualities  which  might  be  found  to  burn  with  more  outward 
brightness  in  a  younger  man,  those  it  is  in  my  power  to 
bestow  for  the  term  of  my  earthly  life.  Your  steady  ad- 
herence to  church  principles  and  your  interest  in  ecclesiastical 
polity  (as  was  shown  by  your  bright  questioning  on  those 
subjects  during  our  morning  walk  round  your  grounds)  have 
indicated  strongly  to  me  the  grace  and  appropriateness  with 
which  you  would  fill  the  position  of  a  bishop's  wife,  and  how 

227 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

greatly  you  would  add  to  his  reputation,  should  you  be 
disposed  to  honour  him  with  your  hand.  Formerly  there 
have  been  times  when  I  was  of  opinion — and  you  will  rightly 
appreciate  my  candour  in  owning  it — that  a  wife  was  an  i 
impediment  to  a  bishop's  due  activities  ;  but  constant  observa- 
tion has  convinced  me  that,  far  from  this  being  the  truth, 
a  meet  consort  infuses  life  into  episcopal  influence  and 
teaching. 

Should  you  reply  in  the  affirmative  I  will  at  once  come  to 
see  you,  and  with  your  permission  will,  among  other  things, 
show  you  a  few  plain,  practical  rules  which  I  have  interested 
myself  in  drawing  up  for  our  future  guidance.  Should  you 
refuse  to  change  your  condition  on  my  account,  your  decision 
will,  as  I  need  hardly  say,  be  a  great  blow  to  me.  In  any 
event,  I  could  not  do  less  than  I  have  done,  after  giving  the 
subject  my  full  consideration.  Even  if  there  be  a  slight 
deficiency  of  warmth  on  your  part,  my  earnest  hope  is  that  a 
mind  comprehensive  as  yours  will  perceive  the  immense  power 
for  good  that  you  might  exercise  in  the  position  in  which  a 
union  with  me  would  place  you,  and  allow  that  perception  to 
weigh  in  determining  your  answer. 

I  remain,  my  dear  Lady  Constantine,  with  the  highest 
respect  and  affection, — Yours  always, 

C.  Melchester. 


*Well,  you  vi^ill  not  have  the  foolhardiness  to 
decline,  now  that  the  question  has  actually  been 
popped,  I  should  hope,'  said  Louis,  when  he  had  done 
reading. 

*  Certainly  I  shall,'  she  replied. 

*  You  will  really  be  such  a  flat,  Vivlette  ? ' 

'You  speak  without  much  compliment.  I  have 
not  the  least  idea  of  accepting  him.' 

*  Surely  you  will  not  let  your  infatuation  for  that 
young  fellow  carry  you  so  far,  after  my  acquainting 
you  with  the  shady  side  of  his  character  ?  You  call 
yourself  a  religious  woman,  say  your  prayers  out 
loud,  follow  up  the  revived  methods  in  church  practice, 
and  what  not ;  and  yet  you  can  think  with  partiality 
of  a  person  who,  far  from  having  any  religion  in 
him,  breaks  the  most  elementary  commandments  in 
the  decalogue.* 

228 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  I  cannot  agree  with  you,'  she  said,  turning  her 
face  askance,  for  she  knew  not  how  much  of  her 
brother's  language  was  sincere,  and  how  much 
assumed,  the  extent  of  his  discoveries  with  reeard  to 
her  secret  ties  being  a  mystery.  At  moments  she  was 
disposed  to  declare  the  whole  truth,  and  have  done 
with  it.  But  she  hesitated,  and  left  the  words  unsaid  ; 
and  Louis  continued  his  breakfast  in  silence. 

When  he  had  finished,  and  she  had  eaten  little  or 
nothing,  he  asked  once  more,  *  How  do  you  intend 
I  to  answer  that  letter  ?  Here  you  are,  the  poorest 
I  woman  in  the  county,  abandoned  by  people  who  used 
to  be  glad  to  know  you,  and  leading  a  life  as  dismal 
and  dreary  as  a  nun's,  when  an  opportunity  is  offered 
you  of  leaping  at  once  into  a  leading  position  in  this 
part  of  England.  Bishops  are  given  to  hospitality  ; 
you  would  be  welcomed  everywhere.  In  short,  your 
answer  must  be  yes.' 

*  And  yet  it  will  be  no,'  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 
She  had  at  length  learnt,  from  the  tone  of  her 
brother's  latter  remarks,  that  at  any  rate  he  had  no 
knowledge  of  her  actual  marriage,  whatever  indirect 
ties  he  might  suspect  her  guilty  of. 

Louis  could  restrain  himself  no  longer  at  her 
answer.  '  Then  conduct  your  affairs  your  own  way. 
I  know  you  to  be  leading  a  life  that  won't  bear 
investigation,  and  I'm  hanged  if  I'll  stay  here  any 
longer !  * 

Saying  which,  Glanville  jerked  back  his  chair,  and 
strode  out  of  the  room.  In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and  before  she  had  moved  a  step  from  the  table, 
she  heard  him  leaving  the  house. 


XXXII 

What  to  do  she  could  not  tell.  The  step  which 
Swithin  had  entreated  her  to  take,  objectionable  and 
premature  as  it  had  seemed  in  a  county  aspect,  would 
at  all  events  have  saved  her  from  this  dilemma.  Had 
she  allowed  him  to  tell  the  Bishop  his  simple  story 
in  its  fulness,  who  could  say  but  that  that  divine 
might  have  generously  bridled  his  own  impulses, 
entered  into  the  case  with  sympathy,  and  forwarded 
with  zest  their  designs  for  the  future,  owing  to  his 
interest  of  old  in  Swithin's  father,  and  in  the  naturally 
attractive  features  of  the  young  man's  career. 

A  puff  of  wind  from  the  open  window,  wafting  the 
Bishop's  letter  to  the  floor,  aroused  her  from  her 
reverie.  With  a  sigh  she  stooped  and  picked  it  up, 
glanced  at  it  again  ;  then  arose,  and  with  the  deliber- 
ateness  of  inevitable  action  wrote  her  reply  : — 

Welland  HousEy  June  29,  18 — , 

My  dear  Bishop  of  MELrnESTER — I  confess  to  you  1 
that  your  letter,  so  gracious  and  flattering  as  it  is,  has  taken  1 
your  friend  somewhat  unawares.  The  least  I  can  do  in  return  1 
for  its  contents  is  to  reply  as  quickly  as  possible. 

There  is  no  one  in   the  world   who   esteems   your   high  \ 
qualities  more  than  myself,  or  who  has  greater  faith  in  your 
ability  to  adorn  the  episcopal  seat  that  you  have  been  called  ! 
on  to  fill.     But  to  your  question  I  can  give  only  one  reply,  , 
and  that  is  an  unqualified  negative.     To  state  this  unavoidable  • 
decision  distresses  me,  without  affectation  ;   and  I  trust  you 
will  believe  that,  though  I  decline  the  distinction  of  becoming 
your  wife,  I  shall  never  cease  to  interest  myself  in  all  that 

230 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

pertains  to  you  and  your  office ;  and  shall  feel  the  keenest 
regret  if  this  refusal  should  operate  to  prevent  a  lifelong 
friendship  between  us. — I  am,  my  dear  Bishop  of  Melchester, 
ever  sincerely  yours, 

ViVIETTE  CONSTANTINE. 


A  sudden  revulsion  from  the  subterfuge  of  writing 
as  if  she  were  still  a  widow,  wrought  in  her  mind  a 
feeling  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  whole  scheme  of  con- 
cealment ;  and  pushing  aside  the  letter  she  allowed  it 
to  remain  unfolded  and  unaddressed.  In  a  few  minutes 
she  heard  Swithin  approaching,  when  she  put  the  letter 
out  of  the  way  and  turned  to  receive  him. 

Swithin  entered  quietly,  and  looked  round  the 
room.  Seeing  with  unexpected  pleasure  that  she  was 
there  alone,  he  came  over  and  kissed  her.  Her  dis- 
composure at  some  foregone  event  was  soon  obvious. 

!        '  Has    my   staying    caused    you    any    trouble  ? '  he 

j asked   in    a  whisper.     'Where   is  your  brother   this 

■  morning  ?  ' 

She  smiled  through  her  perplexity  as  she  took  his 
hand.    *  The  oddest  things  happen  to  me,  dear  Swithin,* 

I  she  said.     '  Do  you  wish  particularly  to  know  what  has 
happened  now  ? ' 

*  Yes,  if  you  don't  mind  telling  me.* 

*  I  do  mind  telling  you.  But  I  must.  Among 
other  things  I  am  resolving  to  give  way  to  your  re- 
presentations,— in  part,  at  least.  It  will  be  best  to  tell 
the  Bishop  everything,  and  my  brother,  if  not  other 
people.' 

'  I  am  truly  glad  to  hear  it,  Viviette,'  said  he  cheer- 
fully.    *  I  have  felt  for  a  long  time  that  honesty  is  the 
jDest  policy.* 

'  I  at  any  rate  feel  it  now.     But  it  is  a  policy  that 
i  requires  a  great  deal  of  courage !  * 

I        *  It  certainly  requires  some  courage, — I  should  not 
!  say  a  great  deal ;  and  indeed,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
it  demands  less  courage  to  speak  out  than  to  hold  my 
>  tongue.* 
11  231 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  But,  you  silly  boy,  you  don't  know  what  has 
happened.  The  Bishop  has  made  me  an  offer  of 
marriage.' 

*  Good  gracious,  what  an  impertinent  old  man ! 
What  have  you  done  about  it,  dearest  ? ' 

'Well,  I  have  hardly  accepted  him,*  she  replied, 
laughing.  '  It  is  this  event  which  has  suggested  to  me 
that  I  should  make  my  refusal  a  reason  for  confiding 
our  situation  to  him.' 

'  What  would  you  have  done  if  you  had  not  been 
already  appropriated  ?  ' 

*  That's  an  inscrutable  mystery.  He  is  a  worthy 
man  ;  but  he  has  very  pronounced  views  about  his  own  i 
position,  and  some  other  undesirable  qualities.  Still, 
who  knows  ?  You  must  bless  your  stars  that  you  have 
secured  me.  Now  let  us  consider  how  to  draw  up  our 
confession  to  him.  I  wish  I  had  listened  to  you  at 
first,  and  allowed  you  to  take  him  into  our  confidence 
before  his  declaration  arrived.  He  may  possibly  re- 
sent the  concealment  now.  However,  this  cannot  be 
helped.' 

*  I  tell  you  what,  Viviette,'  said  S within,  after  a 
thoughtful  pause,  'if  the  Bishop  is  such  an  earthly  sort 
of  man  as  this,  a  man  who  goes  falling  in  love,  and 
wanting  to  marry  you,  and  so  on,  I  am  not  disposed  to 
confess  anything  to  him  at  all.  I  fancied  him  alto- 
gether different  from  that.' 

*  But  he's  none  the  worse  for  it,  dear.' 

*  I  think  he  is — to  lecture  me  and  love  you,  all  ini 
one  breath !  * 

*  Still,  that's  only  a  passing  phase ;  and  you  first 
proposed  making  a  confidant  of  him.' 

'  I  did.  .  .  .  Very  well.  Then  we  are  to  tell|| 
nobody  but  the  Bishop  ?  * 

*  And  my  brother  Louis.  I  must  tell  him  ;  it  is 
unavoidable.  He  suspects  me  in  a  way  I  could  never 
have  credited  of  him  ! ' 

Swithin,  as  was  before  stated,  had  arranged  to  start 
for  Greenwich  that  morning,  permission  having  been' 

232 


)i 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

accorded  him  by  the  Astronomer-Royal  to  view  the 
Observatory  ;  and  their  final  decision  was  that,  as  he 
could  not  afford  time  to  sit  down  with  her,  and  write 
to  the  Bishop  in  collaboration,  each  should,  during  the 
day,  compose  a  well-considered  letter,  disclosing  their 
position  from  his  and  her  own  point  of  view  ;  Lady 
Constantine  leading  up  to  her  confession  by  her  refusal 
of  the  Bishop's  hand.  It  was  necessary  that  she 
should  know  what  Swithin  contemplated  saying,  that 
her  statements  might  precisely  harmonize.  He  ulti- 
mately agreed  to  send  her  his  letter  by  the  next 
rtli  morning's  post,  when,  having  read  it,  she  would  in  due 
course  despatch  it  with  her  own. 

As  soon  as  he  had  breakfasted  Swithin  went  his 
way,  promising  to  return  from  Greenwich  by  the  end 
of  the  week. 

Viviette  passed  the  remainder  of  that  long  summer 
day,  during  which  her  young  husband  was  receding 
towards  the  capital,  in  an  almost  motionless  state.  At 
some  instants  she  felt  exultant  at  the  idea  of  announcing 
her  marriage  and  defying  general  opinion.  At  another 
her  heart  misgave  her,  and  she  was  tormented  by  a 
fear  lest  Swithin  should  some  day  accuse  her  of  having 
hampered  his  deliberately-shaped  plan  of  life  by  her 
intrusive  romanticism.  That  was  often  the  trick  of 
men  who  had  sealed  by  marriage,  in  their  inex- 
perienced youth,  a  love  for  those  whom  their  maturer 
judgment  would  have  rejected  as  too  obviously  dis- 
proportionate in  years. 

However,  it  was  now  too  late  for  these  lugubrious 
thoughts  ;  and,  bracing  herself,  she  began  to  frame  the 
new  reply  to  Bishop  Helmsdale  —  the  plain,  unvar- 
nished tale  that  was  to  supplant  the  undivulging 
iPanswer  first  written.  She  was  engaged  on  this 
difficult  problem  till  daylight  faded  in  the  west,  and 
the  broad-faced  moon  edged  upwards,  like  a  plate  of 
old  gold,  over  the  elms  towards  the  village.  By  that 
time  Swithin  had  reached  Greenwich  ;  her  brother  had 
i  gone  she  knew  not  whither ;  and  she  and  loneliness 

233 


iL 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER  ( 

dwelt  solely,  as  before,  within  the  walls  of  Welland 
House. 

At  this  hour  of  sunset  and  moonrise  the  new  parlour- 
maid entered,  to  inform  her  that  Mr.  Cecil's  head  clerk, 
from  Warborne,  particularly  wished  to  see  her. 

Mr.  Cecil  was  her  solicitor,  and  she  knew  of 
nothing  whatever  that  required  his  intervention  just 
at  present.  But  he  would  not  have  sent  at  this  time 
of  day  without  excellent  reasons,  and  she  directed  that 
the  young  man  might  be  shown  in  where  she  was. 
On  his  entry  the  first  thing  she  noticed  was  that  in  his 
hand  he  carried  a  newspaper. 

'  In  case  you  should  not  have  seen  this  evening's 
paper.  Lady  Constantine,  Mr.  Cecil  has  directed  me  to 
bring  it  to  you  at  once,  on  account  of  what  appears 
there  in  relation  to  your  ladyship.  He  has  only  just 
seen  it  himself 

*  What  is  it  ?     How  does  it  concern  me?* 

*  I  will  point  it  out' 

*  Read    it  yourself  to   me.     Though    I    am   afraid  i 
there's  not  enough  light.' 

*  I  can  see  very  well  here,'  said  the  lawyer's  clerk, 
stepping  to  the  window.     Folding  back  the  paper  he 
read  : — 

*  News  from  South  Africa. 

*Cape  Town,  May  17  {via  Plymouth). — A  correspondent 
of  the  Cape  Chronicle  states  that  he  has  interviewed  an 
EngHshman  just  arrived  from  the  interior,  and  learns  from 
him  that  a  considerable  misapprehension  exists  in  England: 
concerning  the  death  of  the  traveller  and  hunter,  Sir  Blount 
Constantine — *  ^ 

*  O,  he's  living  !  My  husband  is  alive,'  she  criedj^ 
sinking  down  in  nearly  a  fainting  condition. 

'  No,  my  lady.  Sir  Blount  is  dead  enough,  I  ami 
sorry  to  say.' 

'  Dead,  did  you  say  ?  * 

*  Certainly,  Lady  Constantine ;  there  is  no  doubl 
of  it.' 

234 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

She  sat  up,  and  her  intense  reHef  almost  made 
itself  perceptible  like  a  fresh  atmosphere  in  the  room. 
'Yes.  Then  what  did  you  come  for?'  she  asked 
calmly. 

'That  Sir  Blount  has  died  is  unquestionable,'  re- 
plied the  lawyer's  clerk  gently.  '  But  there  has  been 
some  mistake  about  the  date  of  his  death.' 

*  He  died  of  malarious  fever  on  the  banks  of  the 
Zouga,  October  24,  18 — .' 

*  No  ;  he  only  lay  ill  there  a  long  time,  it  seems. 
It  was  a  companion  who  died  at  that  date.  But  I'll 
read  the  account  to  your  ladyship,  with  your  per- 
mission : — 

*  The  decease  of  this  somewhat  eccentric  wanderer  did 
not  occur  at  the  time  hitherto  supposed,  but  only  in  last 
December.  The  following  is  the  account  of  the  Englishman 
alluded  to,  given  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his  own  words : 
During  the  illness  of  Sir  Blount  and  his  friend  by  the  Zouga, 
three  of  the  servants  went  away,  taking  with  them  a  portion 
of  his  clothing  and  effects ;  and  it  must  be  they  who  spread 
the  report  of  his  death  at  this  time.  After  his  companion's 
death  he  mended,  and  when  he  was  strong  enough  he  and 
I  travelled  on  to  a  healthier  district.  I  urged  him  not  to 
delay  his  return  to  England  ;  but  he  was  much  against  going 
back  there  again,  and  became  so  rough  in  his  manner  towards 
me  that  we  parted  company  at  the  first  opportunity  I  could 
find.  I  joined  a  party  of  white  traders  returning  to  the  West 
Coast.  I  stayed  here  among  the  Portuguese  for  many 
months.  I  then  found  that  an  English  travelling  party  were 
going  to  explore  a  district  adjoining  that  which  I  had 
formerly  traversed  with  Sir  Blount.  They  said  they  would 
be  glad  of  my  services,  and  I  joined  them.  When  we  had 
crossed  the  territory  to  the  South  of  Ulunda,  and  drew  near 
to  Marzambo,  I  heard  tidings  of  a  man  living  there  whom 
I   suspected   to  be  Sir  Blount,  although  he  was  not  known 

^)y  that  name.  Being  so  near  I  was  induced  to  seek  him 
out,  and  found  that  he  was  indeed  the  same.  He  had 
dropped  his  old  name  altogether,  and  had  married  a  native 
princess — * 

*  Married  a  native  princess  !  *  said  Lady  Constantine. 

*  That's  what  it  says,  my  lady, — 

235 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  married   a   native   princess   according   to   the   rites   of  the 
tribe,  and  was  living  very  happily  with  her.     He  told  me  he 
should  never  return  to  England  again.     He  also  told  me  that 
having  seen  this  princess  just  after  I  had  left  him,  he  had  been 
attracted  by  her,  and  had  thereupon  decided  to  reside  with 
her  in  that  country,   as  being  a   land   which   afforded  him 
greater  happiness  than  he   could   hope  to  attain  elsewhere. 
He  asked  me  to  stay  with  him,  instead  of  going  on  with  my 
party,   and  not  reveal  his  real  title  to  any  of  them.     After 
some  hesitation  I  did  stay,  and  was  not  uncomfortable  at  first. 
But  I  soon  found  that  Sir  Blount  drank  much  harder  now 
than  when  I  had  known  him,  and  that  he  was  at  times  very , 
greatly  depressed  in  mind  at  his  position.     One  morning  in ; 
the  middle  of  December  last  I  heard  a  shot  from  his  dwelling. 
His  wife  rushed  frantically  past  me  as  I  hastened  to  the  spot, 
and  when  I  entered  I  found  that  he  had  put  an  end  to  him- 
self with  his  revolver.     His  princess  was  broken-hearted  all  1 
that  day.     When  we  had  buried  him  I  discovered  in  his  house  f 
a  little  box  directed  to  his  solicitors  at  Warborne,  in  England,    ' 
and  a  note  for  myself,  saying  that  I  had  better  get  the  first 
chance  of  returning  that  offered,  and  requesting  me  to  take 
the  box  with  me.      It  is  supposed  to  contain  papers  and 
articles  for  friends  in  England  who  have  deemed  him  dead 
for  some  time.' 

The  clerk  stopped  his  reading,  and  there  was  a 
silence.  *  The  middle  of  last  December,'  she  at  length 
said,  in  a  whisper.      *  Has  the  box  arrived  yet.-* ' 

*  Not  yet,  my  lady.  We  have  no  further  proof  of 
anything.  As  soon  as  the  package  comes  to  hand  you 
shall  know  of  it  immediately.' 

Such  was  the  clerk's  mission ;  and,  leaving  the 
paper  with  her,  he  withdrew.  The  intelligence 
amounted  to  thus  much  :  that.  Sir  Blount  having  been 
alive  till  at  least  six  weeks  after  her  marriage  with! 
S within  St.  Cleeve,  S within  St.  Cleeve  was  not  her 
husband  in  the  eyes  of  the  law ;  that  she  would  haveV 
to  consider  how  her  marriage  with  the  latter  might  be 
instantly  repeated,  to  establish  herself  legally  as  that 
young  man's  wife.  . 


XXXIII 

Next  morning  Vivlette  received  a  visit  from  Mr. 
Cecil  himself.  He  informed  her  that  the  box  spoken 
of  by  the  servant  had  arrived  quite  unexpectedly  just 
after  the  departure  of  his  clerk  on  the  previous  even- 
ing. There  had  not  been  sufficient  time  for  him  to 
thoroughly  examine  it  as  yet,  but  he  had  seen  enough 
to  enable  him  to  state  that  it  contained  letters,  dated 
memoranda  in  Sir  Blount's  handwriting,  notes  referring 
to  events  which  had  happened  later  than  his  supposed 
death,  and  other  irrefragable  proofs  that  the  account  in 
the  newspapers  was  correct  as  to  the  main  fact — the 
•  comparatively  recent  date  of  Sir  Blount's  decease. 

She  looked  up,  and  spoke  with  the  irresponsible 
helplessness  of  a  child. 

'  On  reviewing  the  circumstances,  I  cannot  think 
how  I  could  have  allowed  myself  to  believe  the  first 
!  tidings  !*  she  said. 

*  Everybody  else  believed  them,  and  why  should 
you  not  have  done  so  ? '  said  the  lawyer. 

*  How  came  the  will  to  be  permitted  to  be  proved, 
as   there   could,    after    all,    have    been    no    complete 

I  evidence  .-^ '  she  asked.      '  If  I  had  been  the  executrix 

II  would  not  have  attempted  it !  As  I  was  not,  I  know 
I  very  little  about  how  the  business  was  pushed  through. 
I  In  a  very  unseemly  way,  I  think.' 

'Well,  no,'  said  Mr.  Cecil,  feeling  himself  morally 
called  upon  to  defend  legal  procedure  from  such  impu- 
tations. '  It  was  done  in  the  usual  way  in  all  cases 
where  the  proof  of  death  is  only  presumptive.     The 

237 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


■^■' 


evidence,  such  as  it  was,  was  laid  before  the  court  by| 
the  appHcants,  your  husband's  cousins;  and  the  ser- 
vants who  had  been  with  him  deposed  to  his  death 
with  a  particularity  that  was  deemed  sufficient.  Theii 
error  was,  not  that  somebody  died — for  somebody  die 
die  at  the  time  affirmed — but  that  they  mistook  om 
person  for  another ;  the  person  who  died  being  noi 
Sir  Blount  Constantine.  The  court  was  of  opinion 
that  the  evidence  led  up  to  a  reasonable  inference  thai 
the  deceased  was  actually  Sir  Blount,  and  probate  wa? 
granted  on  the  strength  of  it.  As  there  was  a  doub 
about  the  exact  day  of  the  month,  the  applicants  were 
allowed  to  swear  that  he  died  on  or  after  the  date  las' 
given  of  his  existence — which,  in  spite  of  their  erroi 
then,  has  really  come  true,  now,  of  course.' 

*  They  little  think  what  they  have  done  to  me  b) 
being  so  ready  to  swear ! '  she  murmured. 

Mr.  Cecil,  supposing  her  to  allude  only  to  th( 
pecuniary  straits  in  which  she  had  been  prematurel) 
placed  by  the  will  taking  effect  a  year  before  its  dm 
time,  said,  *  True.  It  has  been  to  your  ladyship': 
loss,  and  to  their  gain.  But  they  will  make  ample 
restitution,  no  doubt :  and  all  will  be  wound  uj 
satisfactorily.* 

Lady  Constantine  was  far  from  explaining  tha 
this  was  not  her  meaning ;  and,  after  some  furthe 
conversation  of  a  purely  technical  nature,  Mr.  Ceci 
left  her  presence. 

When  she  was  again  unencumbered  with  tht 
necessity  of  exhibiting  a  proper  bearing,  the  sense 
that  she  had  greatly  suffered  in  pocket  by  the  undue 
haste  of  the  executors  weighed  upon  her  mind  with  i 
pressure  quite  Inappreciable  beside  the  greater  gravit)^ 
of  her  personal  position.  What  was  her  position  a: 
legatee  to  her  situation  as  a  woman  ?  Her  face 
crimsoned  with  a  flush  which  she  was  almost  ashamec 
to  show  to  the  daylight,  as  she  hastily  penned  the 
following  note  to  Swithin  at  Greenwich — certainly  one 
of  the  most  informal  documents  she  had  ever  written. 

238 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

I 

Welland,  Thursday. 

O  Swithin,  my  dear  Swithin,  what  I  have  to  tell  you  is 

so  sad  and  so  humiliating  that  I  can  hardly  write  it — and  yet 

i  I  must.     Though  we  are  dearer  to  each  other  than  all   the 

world  besides,  and  as  firmly  united  as  if  we  were  one,  I  am 

not  legally  your  wife !     Sir  Blount  did  not  die  till  some  time 

after  we  in  England  supposed.     The  service  must  be  repeated 

instantly.     I  have  not  been  able  to  sleep  all  night.     I  feel  so 

frightened    and    ashamed    that    I    can    scarcely    arrange    my 

[  thoughts.     The  newspapers  sent  with  this  will  explain,  if  you 

!  have  not  seen  particulars.     Do  come  to  me  as  soon  as  you 

can,  that  we  may  consult  on  what  to  do.     Burn  this  at  once. 

Your  ViVIETTE. 

When  the  note  was  despatched  she  remembered 
that  there  w^as  another  hardly  less  important  question 
to  be  answered — the  proposal  of  the  Bishop  for  her 
hand.  His  communication  had  sunk  into  nothingness 
beside  the  momentous  news  that  had  so  greatly  dis- 
tressed her.  The  two  replies  lay  before  her — the  one 
she  had  first  written,  simply  declining  to  become  Dr. 
Helmsdale's  wife,  without  giving  reasons  ;  the  second, 
which  she  had  elaborated  with  so  much  care  on  the 
previous  day,  relating  in  confidential  detail  the  history 
of  her  love  for  Swithin,  their  secret  marriage,  and  their 
hopes  for  the  future  ;  asking  his  advice  on  what  their 
I  i  procedure  should  be  to  escape  the  strictures  of  a 
censorious  world.  It  was  the  letter  she  had  barely 
finished  writing  when  Mr.  Cecil's  clerk  announced 
news  tantamount  to  a  declaration  that  she  was  no  wife 
at  all. 

This  epistle  she  now  destroyed — and  with  the  less 
reluctance  in  knowing  that  Swithin  had  been  some- 
what averse  to  the  confession  as  soon  as  he  found  that 
Bishop  Helmsdale  was  also  a  victim  to  tender  senti- 
ment concerning  her.  The  first,  in  which,  at  the  time 
of  writing,  the  suppressio  vert  was  too  strong  for  her 
conscience,  had  now  become  an  honest  letter,  and  sadly 
folding  it  she  sent  the  missive  on  its  way. 

The  sense  of  her  undefinable  position  kept  her 

239 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

from  much  repose  on  the  second  night  also  ;  but  the 
following  morning  brought  an  unexpected  letter  from 
Swithin,  written  about  the  same  hour  as  hers  to  him,  \ 
and  it  comforted  her  much. 

He  had  seen  the  account  in  the  papers  almost  as 
soon  as  it  had  come  to  her  knowledge,  and  sent  this 
line  to  reassure  her  in  the  perturbation  she  mustij 
naturally  feel.  She  was  not  to  be  alarmed  at  all. 
They  two  were  husband  and  wife  in  moral  intent  and 
antecedent  belief,  and  the  legal  flaw  which  accident 
had  so  curiously  uncovered  could  be  mended  in  half- 
an-hour.  He  would  return  on  Saturday  night  at 
latest,  but  as  the  hour  would  probably  be  far  advanced, 
he  would  ask  her  to  meet  him  by  slipping  out  of  the 
house  to  the  tower  any  time  during  service  on  Sunday 
morning,  when  there  would  be  few  persons  about  likely 
to  observe  them.  Meanwhile  he  might  provisionally 
state  that  their  best  course  in  the  emergency  would 
be,  instead  of  confessing  to  anybody  that  there  had 
already  been  a  solemnization  of  marriage  between 
them,  to  arrange  their  re-marriage  in  as  open  a  manner 
as  possible — as  if  it  were  the  just-reached  climax  of  a 
sudden  atlection,  instead  of  a  harking  back  to  an  old 
departure — prefacing  it  by  a  public  announcement  in 
the  usual  way. 

This  plan  of  approaching  their  second  union  with 
all  the  show  and  circumstance  of  a  new  thing,  recom- 
mended itself  to  her  strongly,  but  for  one  objection — 
that  by  such  a  course  the  wedding  could  not,  without 
appearing  like  an  act  of  unseemly  haste,  take  place  sc 
quickly  as  she  desired  for  her  own  moral  satisfaction. 
It  might  take  place  somewhat  early,  say  in  the  course 
of  three  or  four  months,  without  bringing  down  uporv 
her  the  charge  of  levity  ;  for  Sir  Blount,  a  notoriousl) 
unkind  husband,  had  been  out  of  her  sight  four  years 
and  in  his  grave  nearly  one.  But  what  she  naturall) 
desired  was  that  there  should  be  no  more  delay  thar 
was  positively  necessary  for  obtaining  a  new  license 
— two  or  three  days  at  longest ;  and  in  view  of  thii 

240 


1 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

celerity  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  make  due  pre- 
paration for  a  wedding  of  ordinary  publicity,  performed 
in  her  own  church,  from  her  own  house,  with  a  feast 
and  amusements  for  the  villagers,  a  tea  for  the  school 
children,  a  bonfire,  and  other  of  those  proclamatory 
accessories  which,  by  meeting  wonder  half-way,  deprive 
it  of  much  of  its  intensity.  It  must  be  admitted, 
too,  that  she  even  now  shrank  from  the  shock  of 
surprise  that  would  inevitably  be  caused  by  her 
openly  taking  for  husband  such  a  mere  youth  of  no 
position  as  Swithin  still  appeared,  notwithstanding 
that  in  years  he  was  by  this  time  within  a  trifle  of 
one-and-twenty. 

The  straightforward  course  had,  nevertheless,  so 
much  to  recommend  it,  so  well  avoided  the  disadvan- 
tage of  future  revelation  which  a  private  repetition  of 
the  ceremony  would  entail,  that  assuming  she  could 
depend  upon  Swithin,  as  she  knew  she  could  do,  good 
sense  counselled  its  serious  consideration. 

She  became  more  composed  at  her  queer  situation  : 
hour  after  hour  passed,  and  the  first  spasmodic  impulse 
of  womanly  decorum — not  to  let  the  sun  go  down  upon 
her  present  improper  state — was  quite  c-ontrollable. 
She  could  regard  the  strange  contingency  that  had 
arisen  with  something  like  philosophy.  The  day 
slipped  by :  she  thought  of  the  awkwardness  of  the 
accident  rather  than  of  its  humiliation  ;  and,  loving 
Swithin  now  in  a  far  calmer  spirit  than  at  that  past 
date  when  they  had  rushed  into  each  other  s  arms  and 
vowed  to  be  one  for  the  first  time,  she  ever  and  anon 
caught  herself  reflecting,  '  Were  it  not  that  for  my 
honour's  sake  I  must  re-marry  him,  I  should  perhaps 
^  be  a  nobler  woman  in  not  allowing  him  to  encumber 
his  bright  future  by  a  union  with  me  at  all.' 

This  thought,  at  first  artificially  raised,  as  little 
more  than  a  mental  exercise,  became  by  stages  a 
genuine  conviction  ;  and  while  her  heart  enforced  her 
reason  regretted  the  necessity  of  abstaining  from 
self-sacrifice — the  being  obliged,  despite  his  curious 

241 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

escape  from  the  first  attempt,  to  lime  Swithin's  young 
wings  again  solely  for  her  credit's  sake. 

However,  the  deed  had  to  be  done  ;  Swithin  was 
to  be  made  legally  hers.  Selfishness  in  a  conjuncture 
of  this  sort  was  excusable,  and  even  obligatory. 
Taking  brighter  views,  she  hoped  that  upon  the  whole 
this  yoking  of  the  young  fellow  with  her,  a  portionless 
woman  and  his  senior,  would  not  greatly  endanger  his 
career.  In  such  a  mood  night  overtook  her,  and  she 
went  to  bed  conjecturing  that  Swithin  had  by  this 
time  arrived  in  the  parish,  was  perhaps  even  at  that 
moment  passing  homeward  beneath  her  walls,  and  that 
in  less  than  twelve  hours  she  would  have  met  him, 
have  ventilated  the  secret  which  oppressed  her,  and 
have  satisfactorily  arranged  with  him  the  details  of 
their  reunion. 


XXXIV 

Sunday  morning  came,  and  complicated  her  previous 
emotions  by  bringing  a  new  and  unexpected  shock  to 
mingle  with  them.  The  postman  had  delivered  among 
other  things  an  illustrated  newspaper,  sent  by  a  hand 
she  did  not  recognize  ;  and  on  opening  the  cover  the 
sheet  that  met  her  eyes  filled  her  with  a  horror  which 
she  could  not  express.  The  print  was  one  which 
drew  largely  on  its  imagination  for  its  engravings, 
and  it  already  contained  an  illustration  of  the  death 
of  Sir  Blount  Constantine.  In  this  work  of  art  he 
was  represented  as  standing  with  his  pistol  to  his 
mouth,  his  brains  being  in  process  of  flying  up  to  the 
roof  of  his  chamber,  and  his  native  princess  rushing 
terror-stricken  away  to  a  remote  position  in  the  thicket 
of  palms  which  neighboured  the  dwelling. 

The  crude  realism  of  the  picture,  possibly  harm- 
less enough  in  its  effect  upon  others,  overpowered  and 
sickened  her.  By  a  curious  fascination  she  would 
look  at  it  again  and  again,  till  every  line  of  the  en- 
graver's performance  seemed  really  a  transcript  from 
what  had  happened  before  his  eyes.  With  such  details 
fresh  in  her  thoughts  she  was  going  out  of  the  door  to 
make  arrangements  for  confirming,  by  repetition,  her 
marriage  with  another.  No  interval  was  available  for 
serious  reflection  on  the  tragedy,  or  for  allowing  the 
softening  effects  of  time  to  operate  in  her  mind.  It 
was  as  though  her  first  husband  had  died  that  moment, 
and  she  was  keeping  an  appointment  with  another  in 
the  presence  of  his  corpse. 

243 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

So  revived  was  the  actuality  of  Sir  Blount's  recent 
life  and  death  by  this  incident,  that  the  distress  of 
her  personal  relations  with  S within  was  the  single 
force  in  the  world  which  could  have  coerced  her 
into  abandoning  to  him  the  interval  she  would  fain 
have  set  apart  for  getting  over  these  new  and  painful 
impressions.  Self-pity  for  ill-usage  afforded  her  good 
reasons  for  ceasing  to  love  Sir  Blount ;  but  he  was 
yet  too  closely  intertwined  with  her  past  life  to  be 
destructible  on  the  instant  as  a  memory. 

But  there  was  no  choice  of  occasions  for  her  now, 
and  she  steadily  waited  for  the  church  bells  to  cease 
chiming.  At  last  all  was  silent ;  the  surrounding 
cottagers  had  gathered  themselves  within  the  walls  of 
the  adjacent  building.  Tabitha  Lark's  first  voluntary 
then  droned  from  the  chancel,  and  Lady  Constantlne 
left  the  garden  in  which  she  had  been  loitering,  and 
went  towards  Rings-Hill  Speer. 

The  sense  of  her  situation  obscured  the  morning 
prospect.  The  country  was  unusually  silent  under  the 
intensifying  sun,  the  songless  season  of  birds  having 
just  set  in.  Choosing  her  path  amid  the  efts  that 
were  basking  upon  the  outer  slopes  of  the  plantation 
she  wound  her  way  up  the  tree-shrouded  camp  to  the 
wooden  cabin  in  the  centre. 

The  door  was  ajar,  but  on  entering  she  found  the 
place  empty.  The  tower  door  was  also  partly  open  ; 
and  listening  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  she  heard 
Swithin  above,  shifting  the  telescope  and  wheeling 
round  the  rumbling  dome,  apparently  in  preparation 
for  the  next  nocturnal  reconnoitre.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  he  would  descend  in  a  minute  or  two  to 
look  for  her,  and  not  wishing  to  interrupt  him  till  he  , 
was  ready  she  re-entered  the  cabin,  where  she  patiently 
seated  herself  among  the  books  and  papers  that  lay 
scattered  about. 

She  did  as  she  had  often  done  before  when  waiting 
there  for  him  ;  that  is,  she  occupied  her  moments  in 
turning  over  the  papers  and  examining  the  progress  of 

244 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

his  labours.  The  notes  were  mostly  astronomical,  of 
course,  and  she  had  managed  to  keep  sufficiently 
abreast  of  him  to  catch  the  meaning  of  a  good  many 
of  these.  The  Htter  on  the  table,  however,  was  some- 
what more  marked  this  morning  than  usual,  as  if  it 
had  been  hurriedly  overhauled.  Among  the  rest  of 
the  sheets  lay  an  open  note,  and,  in  the  entire  con- 
fidence that  existed  between  them,  she  glanced  over 
and  read  it  as  a  matter  of  course. 

It  was  a  most  business-like  communication,  and 
beyond  the  address  and  date  contained  only  the  follow- 
inof  words  : — 

Dear  Sir, — We  beg  leave  to  draw  your  attention  to  a 
letter  we  addressed  to  you  on  the  26th  ult.,  to  which  we  have 
not  yet  been  favoured  with  a  reply.  As  the  time  for  payment 
of  the  first  moiety  of  the  six  hundred  pounds  per  annum  settled 
on  you  by  your  late  uncle  is  now  at  hand,  we  should  be 
obliged  by  your  giving  directions  as  to  where  and  in  what 
manner  the  money  is  to  be  handed  over  to  you,  and  shall 
also  be  glad  to  receive  any  other  definite  instructions  from 
you  with  regard  to  the  future. — Wc  are,  dear  Sir,  yours 
faithfully,  Hanner  &  Rawles. 

SwiTHiN  St.  Cleeve,  Esq. 

An  income  of  six  hundred  a  year  for  Swithin,  whom 
she  had  hitherto  understood  to  be  possessed  of  an 
annuity  of  eighty  pounds  at  the  outside,  with  no  pros- 
pect of  increasing  the  sum  but  by  hard  work  !  What 
could  this  communication  mean  ?  He  whose  custom 
and  delight  it  was  to  tell  her  all  his  heart,  had  breathed 
not  a  syllable  of  this  matter  to  her,  though  it  met  the 
very  difficulty  towards  which  their  discussions  invari- 
^^  ably  tended — how  to  secure  for  him  a  competency  that 
should  enable  him  to  establish  his  pursuits  on  a  wider 
basis,  and  throw  himself  into  more  direct  communion 
with  the  scientific  world.  Quite  bewildered  by  the  lack 
of  any  explanation  she  rose  from  her  seat,  and  with  the 
note  in  her  hand  ascended  the  winding  tower-steps. 
Reaching  the  upper  aperture  she  perceived  him 

245 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

under  the  dome,  moving  musingly  about  as  if  he  had 
never  been  absent  an  hour,  his  light  hair  frilling  out 
from  under  the  edge  of  his  velvet  skull-cap  as  it  was 
always  wont  to  do.  No  question  of  marriage  seemed 
to  be  disturbing  the  mind  of  this  juvenile  husband  of 
hers.  The  primum  mobile  of  his  gravitation  was  ap- 
parently the  equatorial  telescope  which  she  had  given 
him,  and  which  he  was  carefully  adjusting  by  means 
of  screws  and  clamps.  Hearing  her  movements  he 
turned  his  head. 

*  O  here  you  are,  my  dear  Viviette !  I  was  just 
beginning  to  expect  you,*  he  exclaimed,  coming 
forward.  *  I  ought  to  have  been  looking  out  for  you, 
but  I  have  found  a  little  defect  here  in  the  instru- 
ment, and  I  wanted  to  set  it  right  before  evening 
comes  on.  As  a  rule  it  is  not  a  good  thing  to  tinker 
your  glasses ;  but  I  have  found  that  the  diffraction- 
rings  are  not  perfect  circles.  I  learnt  at  Greenwich 
how  to  correct  them — so  kind  they  have  been  to  me 
there ! — and  so  I  have  been  loosening  the  screws 
and  gently  shifting  the  glass,  till  I  think  that  I  have 
at  last  made  the  illumination  equal  all  round.  I  have 
so  much  to  tell  you  about  my  visit ;  one  thing  is, 
that  the  astronomical  world  is  getting  quite  excited 
about  the  coming  Transit  of  Venus.  There  is  to 
be  a  regular  expedition  fitted  out.  How  I  should 
like  to  join  it ! ' 

He  spoke  enthusiastically,  and  with  eyes  sparkling 
at  the  mental  image  of  the  said  expedition  ;  and  as  it 
was  rather  gloomy  in  the  dome  he  rolled  it  round  on 
its  axis,  till  the  shuttered  slit  for  the  telescope  directly 
faced  the  morning  sun,  which  thereupon  flooded  the 
concave  interior,  touching  the  bright  metal-work  of  the  v 
equatorial,  and  lighting  up  her  pale,  troubled  face. 

'  But  Swithin  ! '  she  faltered  ;  *  my  letter  to  you — 
our  marriage ! ' 

'  O  yes,  this  marriage  question,*  he  added.  '  I  had 
not  forgotten  it,  dear  Viviette — or  at  least  only  for  a 
few  minutes.* 

246 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Can  you  forget  it,  Swithin,  for  a  moment  ?  O 
how  can  you!'  she  said  reproachfully.  '  It  is  such  a 
distressing  thing.      It  drives  away  all  my  rest ! ' 

*  Forgotten  is  not  the  word  I  should  have  used,' 
he  apologized.  '  Temporarily  dismissed  it  from  my 
mind,  is  all  I  meant.  The  simple  fact  is,  that  the 
vastness  of  the  field  of  astronomy  reduces  every 
terrestrial  thing  to  atomic  dimensions.  Do  not 
trouble,  dearest.  The  remedy  is  quite  easy,  as  I 
stated  in  my  letter.  We  can  now  be  married  in  a 
prosy  public  way.  Yes,  early  or  late — next  week, 
next  month,  six  months  hence — ^just  as  you  choose. 
Say  the  word  when,  and  I  will  obey.' 

The  absence  of  all  anxiety  or  consternation  from 
his  face  contrasted  strangely  with  hers,  which  at  last 
he  saw,  and,  looking  at  the  writing  she  held,  inquired — 

*  But  what  paper  have  you  in  your  hand  ? ' 

*  A  letter  which  to  me  is  actually  inexplicable,'  said 
she,  her  curiosity  returning  to  the  letter,  and  over- 
riding for  the  instant  her  immediate  concerns.  '  What 
does  this  income  of  six  hundred  a  year  mean  ?  Why 
have  you  never  told  me  about  it,  dear  Swithin  ?  or 

I    does  it  not  refer  to  you  ?  ' 

He  looked  at  the  note,  flushed  slightly,  and  was 
absolutely  unable  to  begin  his  reply  at  once. 

'  I  did  not  mean  you  to  see  that,  Viviette,'  he 
murmured. 

*  Why  not  ?  ' 

*  I  thought  you  had  better  not,  as  it  does  not  con- 
cern me  further  now.  The  solicitors  are  labouring 
under  a  mistake  in  supposing  that  it  does.  I  have  to 
write  at  once  and  inform  them  that  the  annuity  is  not 

Lmine  to  receive.' 

*  What  a  strange  mystery  in  your  life  ! '  she  said, 
forcing  a  perplexed  smile.  '  Something  to  balance 
the  tragedy  in  mine.      I   am  absolutely  in  the  dark  as 

d  I  to  your  past  history,  it  seems.     And  yet  I  had  thought 
il  you  told  me  everything.' 

'         *  I    could    not   tell   you   that,   Viviette,   because  it 

247 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

would  have  endangered  our  relations — though  not 
in  the  way  you  may  suppose.  You  would  have 
reproved  me.  You,  who  are  so  generous  and  noble, 
would  have  forbidden  me  to  do  what  I  did ;  and  I  was 
determined  not  to  be  forbidden.' 

*  To  do  what  ? ' 
*To  marry  you.' 

*  Why  should  I  have  forbidden  ? ' 

*  Must  I  tell — what  I  would  not?*  he  said,  placing 
his  hands  upon  her  arms,  and  looking  somewhat  sadly 
at  her.  *  Well,  perhaps  as  it  has  come  to  this  you 
ought  to  know  all,  since  it  can  make  no  possible 
difference  to  my  intentions  now.  We  are  one  for 
ever  —  legal  blunders  notwithstanding  ;  for  happily 
they  are  quickly  reparable — and  this  question  of  a 
devise  from  my  uncle  Jocelyn  only  concerned  me 
when  I  was  a  single  man.' 

Thereupon,  with  obviously  no  consideration  of  the 
possibilities  that  were  reopened  of  the  nullity  of  their 
marriage  contract,  he  related  in  detail,  and  not  without 
misgiving  for  having  concealed  them  so  long,  the 
events  that  had  occurred  on  the  morning  of  their 
wedding-day  ;  how  he  had  met  the  postman  on  his 
way  to  Warborne  after  dressing  in  the  cabin,  and 
how  he  had  received  from  him  the  letter  his  dead 
uncle  had  confided  to  his  family  lawyers,  informing 
him  of  the  annuity,  and  of  the  important  provision 
attached  —  that  he  should  be  unmarried  at  his  five- 
and  -  twentieth  year;  how  in  comparison  with  the? 
possession  of  her  dear  self  he  had  reckoned  the  income^ 
as  nought,  abandoned  all  idea  of  it  there  and  then, 
and  had  come  on  to  the  wedding  as  if  nothing  had 
happened  to  interrupt  for  a  moment  the  working  out 
of  their  plan  ;  how  he  had  scarcely  thought  with  any. 
closeness  of  the  circumstances  of  the  case  since,  until 
reminded  of  them  by  this  note  she  had  seen,  and  a 
previous  one  of  a  like  sort  received  from  the  same^ 
solicitors. 

*  O  Swithin  !    Swithin  ! '    she  cried,  bursting  into 

248 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

tears  as  she  realized  it  all,  and  sinking  on  the  ob- 
serving-chair ;  '  I  have  ruined  you !  yes,  I  have  ruined 
you ! ' 

The  young  man  was  dismayed  by  her  unexpected 
grief,  and  endeavoured  to  soothe  her ;  but  she  seemed 
touched  by  a  poignant  remorse  which  would  not  be 
comforted. 

'And  now,'  she  continued,  as  soon  as  she  could 
speak,  'when  you  are  once  more  free,  and  in  a  position 
— actually  in  a  position  to  claim  the  annuity  that 
would  be  the  making  of  you,  I  am  compelled  to 
come  to  you,  and  beseech  you  to  undo  yourself  again, 
merely  to  save  me  ! ' 

'  Not  to  save  you,  Viviette,  but  to  bless  me. 
You  do  not  ask  me  to  re-marry  ;  it  is  not  a  question 
of  alternatives  at  all ;  it  is  my  straight  course.  I  do 
not  dream  of  doing  otherwise.  I  should  be  wretched 
if  you  thought  for  one  moment  I  could  entertain  the 
idea  of  doing  otherwise.' 

But  the  more  he  said  the  worse  he  made  the 
matter.  It  was  a  state  of  affairs  that  would  not  bear 
discussion  at  all,  and  the  unsophisticated  view  he  took 
of  his  course  seemed  to  increase  her  responsibility. 

'  Why  did  your  uncle  attach  such  a  cruel  condition 

to   his    bounty  ? '    she    cried    bitterly.     *  O,    he    little 

thinks   how  hard   he  hits   me    from  the  grave — me, 

who   have   never   done   him    wrong ;    and   you,    too ! 

Swithin,  are  you  sure  that  he  makes  that  condition 

indispensable.'*     Perhaps  he    meant    that  you  should 

not  marry  beneath  you ;    perhaps  he  did  not  mean 

to  object  in  such  a  case  as  your  marrying  (forgive  me 

'for  saying  it)  a  little  above  you.' 

^      '  There  is  no  doubt  that  he  did  not  contemplate 

>  ja  case  which  has  led  to  such  happiness  as  this  has 

.  'done,'    the    youth    murmured    with     hesitation ;    for 

I  though  he  scarcely  remembered  a  word  of  his  uncle's 

:  letter  of  advice,  he  had  a  dim  apprehension  that  it 

was  couched  in  terms  alluding  specifically  to    Lady 

Constantine. 

249 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

'  Are  you  sure  you  cannot  retain  the  money,  and 
be  my  lawful  husband  too  ?  '  she  asked  piteously.  *  O, 
what  a  wrong  I  am  doing  you !  I  did  not  dream  that 
it  could  be  as  bad  as  this.  I  knew  I  was  wasting 
your  time  by  letting  you  have  me,  and  hampering 
your  projects  ;  but  I  thought  there  were  compensating  I 
advantages.  This  wrecking  of  your  future  at  my  J 
hands  I  did  not  contemplate.  You  are  sure  there  is 
no  escape  ?  Have  you  his  letter  with  the  conditions, 
or  the  will  ?  Let  me  see  the  letter  in  which  he  ex- 
presses his  wishes.* 

*  I  assure  you  It  is  all  as  I  say,'  he  pensively 
returned.  *  Even  if  I  were  not  legally  bound  by  the 
conditions  I  should  be  morally.' 

'But  how  does  he  put  It.'*  How  does  he  justify 
himself  in  making  such  a  harsh  restriction  ?  Do 
let  me  see  the  letter,  Swithln.  I  shall  think  it  a 
want  of  confidence  if  you  do  not.  I  may  discover 
some  way  out  of  the  difficulty  If  you  let  me  look  at 
the  papers.  Eccentric  wills  can  be  evaded  in  all  sorts 
of  ways.* 

Still  he  hesitated.  *  I  would  rather  you  did  not 
see  the  papers,*  he  said. 

But  she  persisted  as  only  a  fond  woman  can. 
Her  conviction  was  that  she  who,  as  a  woman  many 
years  his  senior,  should  have  shown  her  love  for  him 
by  guiding  him  straight  into  the  paths  he  aimed 
at,  had  blocked  his  attempted  career  for  her  owr 
happiness.  This  made  her  more  intent  than  evei 
to  find  out  a  device  by  which,  while  she  still  retalnec 
him,  he  might  also  retain  the  life-interest  under  hif 
uncle's  will. 

Her  entreaties  were  at  length  too  potent  for  hi« 
resistance.  Accompanying  her  downstairs  to  the 
cabin,  he  opened  the  desk  from  which  the  othe 
papers  had  been  taken,  and  against  his  better  judgmen 
handed  her  the  ominous  communication  of  Jocelyn  St 
Cleeve  which  lay  in  the  envelope  just  as  it  had  beei 
received  three-quarters  of  a  year  earlier. 

250 


m 

m 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Don't  read  it  now,'  he  said.  '  Don't  spoil  our 
meeting  by  entering  into  a  subject  which  is  virtually 
past  and  done  with.  Take  it  with  you,  and  look 
it  over  at  your  leisure — merely  as  an  old  curiosity, 
remember,  and  not  as  a  still  operative  document  I 
have  almost  forgotten  what  the  contents  are,  beyond 

\  \  the    general    advice    and    stipulation    that    I    was    to 
remain  a  bachelor.' 

*  At  any  rate,'  she  rejoined,  '  do  not  reply  to  the 
note  I  have  seen  from  the  solicitors  till  I  have  read 
this  also.' 

He  promised.  *  But  now  about  our  public 
wedding,'  he  said.  *  Like  certain  royal  personages, 
we  shall  have  had  the  religious  rite  and  the  civil 
contract  performed  on  independent  occasions.  Will 
you  fix  the  day  ?  When  is  it  to  be  ?  and  shall  it  take 
place  at  a  registrar's  office,  since  there  is  no  necessity 
for  having  the  sacred  part  over  again  ?  ' 

*  I'll  think,'  replied  she.     *  I'll  think  it  over.* 

*  And  let  me  know  as  soon  as  you  can  how  you 
j  decide  to  proceed.' 

I  '  I  will  write  to-morrow,  or  come.  I  do  not  know 
I  what  to  say  now.  I  cannot  forget  how  I  am  wronging 
I  you.    This  is  almost  more  than  I  can  bear  ! ' 

To  divert  her  mind  he  began  talking  about  Green- 
wich Observatory,  and  the  g^reat  instruments  therein, 
and  how  he  had  been  received  by  the  astronomers, 
and  the  details  of  the  expedition  to  observe  the 
Transit  of  Venus,  together  with  many  other  subjects 
of  the  sort,  to  which  she  had  not  power  to  lend  her 
attention. 

*  I  must  reach  home  before  the  people  are  out  of 
church,'  she  at  length  said  wearily.  *  I  wish  nobody 
to  know  I  have  been  out  this  morning.'  And  for- 
bidding Swithin  to  cross  into  the  open  in  her  company 
she  left  him  on  the  edge  of  the  isolated  plantation, 
which  had  latterly  known  her  tread  so  well. 


251 


XXXV 

Lady  Constantine  crossed  the  field  and   the   park  ; 
beyond,   and  found   on  passing  the  church   that  the  !! 
congregation  was  still  within.     There  was  no  hurry 
for  getting  indoors,  the  open  windows  enabling  her 
to  hear  that  Mr.  Torkingham  had  only  just  given  out  i 
his  text.     So  instead  of  entering  the  house  she  went  t 
through    the   garden-door  to  the  old  bowling-green, 
and  sat  down  in  the  arbour  that  Louis  had  occupied 
when  he   overheard   the  interview  between    Swithin 
and  the  Bishop.     Not  until  then  did  she  find  courage 
to  draw  out   the  letter   and   papers    relating   to   the 
bequest,    which    Swithin    in    a   critical    moment    had   \ 
handed  to  her.  | 

Had  he  been  ever  so  little  older  he  would  not   j 
have  placed  that  unconsidered  confidence  in  Viviette   1 
which    had    led    him   to   give  way  to   her   curiosity. 
But  the   influence   over   him  which    nearly  ten  out- 
numbering years  lent  her  was  immensely  increased 
by  her   higher  position   and   wider  experiences,   and 
he  had  yielded    the   point,   as    he  yielded   all   social    \ 
points ;  while  the  same  conditions  exempted  him  from 
any  deep  consciousness  that  it  was  his  duty  to  protect 
her  even  from  herself.  t 

The  preamble  of  Dr.  St.  Cleeve's  letter,  in  which 
he  referred  to  his  pleasure  at  hearing  of  the  young 
man's  promise  as  an  astronomer,  disturbed  her  not  at 
all — indeed,  somewhat  prepossessed  her  in  favour  of 
the  old  gentleman  who  had  written  it.  The  first  item 
of  what  he  called   *  unfavourable  news,*  namely,  the 

252 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

allusion  to  the  inadequacy  of  Swithin's  income  to  the 
wants  of  a  scientific  man,  whose  lines  of  work  were 
not  calculated  to  produce  pecuniary  emolument  for 
many  years,  deepened  the  cast  of  her  face  to  concern. 
She  reached  the  second  item  of  the  so-called  un- 
favourable news  ;  and  her  face  flushed  as  she  read 
how  the  doctor  had  learnt  *  that  there  was  something 
in  your  path  worse  than  narrow  means,  and  that 
something  is  a  woman.* 

'To  save  you,  if  possible,  from  ruin  on  these 
heads,'  she  read  on,  '  I  take  the  preventive  measures 
entailed  below.' 

And  then  followed  the  announcement  of  the  ^600 
a  year  settled  on  the  youth  for  life,  on  the  single  con- 
dition that  he  was  found  to  be  unmarried  at  the  age  of 
twenty-five — just  as  Swithin  had  explained  to  her.  She 
next  learnt  that  the  bequest  was  for  a  definite  object — 
that  he  might  have  resources  sufficient  to  enable  him 
to  travel  in  an  inexpensive  way,  and  begin  a  study  of 
the  southern  constellations,  which,  according  to  the 
shrewd  old  man's  judgment,  were  a  mine  not  so 
thoroughly  worked  as  the  northern,  and  therefore  to  be 
recommended.  This  was  followed  by  some  sentences 
which  hit  her  in  the  face  like  a  switch  : — 

The  only  other  preventive  step  in  my  power  is  that  of 
exhortation.  .  .  .  Swithin  St.  Cleeve,  don't  make  a  fool  of 
yourself,  as  your  father  did.     If  your  studies  are  to  be  worth 

j  anything,  believe  me  they  must  be  carried  on  without  the 

I  help  of  a  woman.  Avoid  her,  and  every  one  of  the  sex,  if 
you  mean  to  achieve  any  worthy  thing.     Eschew  all  of  that 

I  sort  for  many  a  year  yet.  Moreover,  I  say,  the  lady  of  your 
acquaintance  avoid  in  particular.  .  .  .  She  has,  in  addition 
to  her  original  disqualification  as  a  companion  for  you  (that 

k4s,  that  of  sex),  these  two  special  drawbacks :  she  is  much 
older  than  yourself 

Lady  Constantine's  indignant  flush  forsook  her, 
and  pale  despair  succeeded  in  its  stead.  Alas,  it  was 
true.  Handsome,  and  in  her  prime,  she  might  be ; 
but  she  was  too  old  for  Swithin ! 

253 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

And  she  is  so  impoverished.  .  .  .  Beyond  this,  frankly, 
I  don't  think  well  of  her.  I  don't  think  well  of  any  woman 
who  dotes  upon  a  man  younger  than  herself.  .  .  .  To  care 
to  be  the  first  fancy  of  a  young  fellow  like  you  shows  no 
ereat  common  sense  in  her.  If  she  were  worth  her  salt  she 
would  have  too  much  pride  to  be  intimate  with  a  youth  in 
your  unassured  position,  to  say  no  more.  (Viviette's  face ; 
by  this  time  tingled  hot  again.)  She  is  old  enough  to  know ' 
that  a  liaison  with  her  may,  and  almost  certainly  would,  be  ■ 
your  ruin  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  a  marriage  would,  i 
be  preposterous — unless  she  is  a  complete  fool ;  and  in  that 
case  there  is  even  more  reason  for  avoiding  her  than  if  she  ■ 
were  in  her  few  senses. 

A  woman  of  honourable  feeling,  nephew,  would  be  • 
careful  to  do  nothing  to  hinder  you  in  your  career,  as  this 
putting  of  herself  in  your  way  most  certainly  will.  Yet  I 
hear  that  she  professes  a  great  anxiety  on  this  same  future 
of  yours  as  a  physicist.  The  best  way  in  which  she  can  show 
the  reality  of  her  anxiety  is  by  leaving  you  to  yourself. 

Leaving  him  to  himself!  She  paled  again,  as  if 
chilled  by  a  conviction  that  in  this  the  old  man  was 
right. 

She'll  blab  your  most  secret  plans  and  theories  to  every 
one  of  her  acquaintance,  and  make  you  appear  ridiculous  by 
announcing  them  before  they  are  matured.  If  you  attempt 
to  study  with  a  woman,  you'll  be  ruled  by  her  to  entertain 
fancies  instead  of  theories,  air-castles  instead  of  intentions, 
qualms  instead  of  opinions,  sickly  prepossessions  instead  of 
reasoned  conclusions.  .  .  . 

An  experienced  woman  waking  a  young  man's  passions.' 
just  at  a  moment  when  he  is  endeavouring  to  shine  intel- 
lectually, is  doing  little  less  than  committing  a  crime. 

Thus  much  the  letter;  and  it  was  enough  for  her,* 
indeed.  The  flushes  of  indignation  which  had  passed: 
over  her,  as  she  gathered  this  man's  opinion  of  herself,i 
combined  with  flushes  of  grief  and  shame  when  sheJ 
considered  that  S within — her  dear  S within — was  per- 
fectly acquainted  with  this  cynical  view  of  her  nature ; 
that,  reject  it  as  he  might,  and  as  he  unquestionably 
did,  such  thoughts  of  her  had  been  implanted  in  him, 
and  lay  in  him.      Stifled  as  they  were,  they   lay  ini 

254 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

him  like  seeds  too  deep  for  germination,  which 
accident  might  some  day  bring  near  the  surface  and 
aerate  into  Hfe. 

The  humiliation  of  such  a  possibility  was  almost 
too  much  to  endure;  the  mortification — she  had 
known  nothing  like  it  till  now.  But  this  was  not  all. 
There  succeeded  a  feeling  in  comparison  with  which 
resentment  and  mortification  were  happy  moods — a 
miserable  conviction  that  this  old  man  who  spoke 
from  the  grave  was  not  altogether  wrong  in  his 
speaking ;  that  he  was  only  half  wrong ;  that  he  was, 
perhaps,  virtually  right.  Only  those  persons  who 
are  by  nature  affected  with  that  ready  esteem  for 
others'  positions  which  induces  an  undervaluing  of 
their  own,  fully  experience  the  deep  smart  of  such 
convictions  against  self — the  wish  for  annihilation  that 
is  engendered  in  the  moment  of  despair,  at  feeling 
that  at  length  wc,  our  best  and  firmest  friend,  cease 
to  believe  in  our  cause. 

Viviette  could  hear  the  people  coming  out  of 
church  on  the  other  side  of  the  garden  wall.  Their 
footsteps  and  their  cheerful  voices  died  away ;  the 
bell  rang  for  lunch  ;  and  she  went  in.  But  her  life 
during  that  morning  and  afternoon  was  wholly  intro- 
spective. Knowing  the  full  circumstances  of  his 
situation  as  she  knew  them  now — as  she  had  never 
before  known  them — ought  she  to  make  herself  the 
legal  wife  of  Swithin  St.  Cleeve,  and  so  secure  her 
own  honour  at  any  price  to  him  ?  such  was  the  for- 
midable question  which  Lady  Constantine  propounded 
to  her  startled  understanding.  As  a  subjectively 
honest  woman  alone,  beginning  her  charity  at  home, 
there   was  no  doubt  that  she   ought.      Save   Thyself 

^was  sound  Old  Testament  doctrine,  and  not  altogether 
discountenanced  in  the  New.  But  was  there  a  line 
of  conduct  which  transcended  mere  self-preservation  ? 
and  would  it  not  be  an  excellent  thing  to  put  it  in 
practice  now  ? 

!        That  she  had   wronged   St.  Cleeve  by  marrying 

255 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

him — that  she  would  wrong  him  infinitely  more  by 
completing  the  marriage — there  was,  in  her  opinion, 
no  doubt.  She  in  her  experience  had  sought  out 
him  in  his  inexperience,  and  had  led  him  like  a  child. 
She  remembered — as  if  it  had  been  her  fault,  though  i 
it  was  in  fact  only  her  misfortune — that  she  had 
been  the  one  to  go  for  the  license  and  take  i^) 
residence  in  the  parish  in  which  they  were  wedded. 
He  was  now  just  one-and-twenty.  Without  her,  he 
had  all  the  world  before  him,  six  hundred  a  year, 
and  leave  to  cut  as  straight  a  road  to  fame  as  he 
should  choose  :  with  her,  this  story  was  negatived. 

No  money  from  his  uncle  ;  no  power  of  advance- 
ment ;  but  a  bondage  with  a  woman  whose  disparity 
of  years,  though  immaterial  just  now,  would  operate 
in  the  future  as  a  wet  blanket  upon  his  social  ambi- 
tions ;  and  that  content  with  life  as  it  was  which 
she  had  noticed  more  than  once  in  him  latterly,  a 
content  imperilling  his  scientific  spirit  by  abstracting 
his  zeal  for  progress. 

It  was  impossible,  in  short,  to  blind  herself  to  the 
inference  that  marriage  with  her  had  not  benefited 
him.  Matters  might  improve  in  the  future ;  but  to 
take  upon  herself  the  whole  liability  of  Swithin's  life, 
as  she  would  do  by  depriving  him  of  the  help  his 
uncle  had  offered,  was  a  fearful  responsibility.  How 
could  she,  an  unendowed  woman,  replace  such  assist- 
ance? His  recent  visit  to  Greenwich,  which  had 
momentarily  revived  that  zest  for  his  pursuit  that 
was  now  less  constant  than  heretofore,  should  by 
rights  be  supplemented  by  other  such  expeditions. 
It  would  be  true  benevolence  not  to  deprive  him  of 
means  to  continue  them,  so  as  to  keep  his  ardour 
alive,  regardless  of  the  cost  to  herself. 

It  could  be  done.  By  the  extraordinary  favour  of 
a  unique  accident  she  had  now  an  opportunity  of 
redeeming  Swithin's  seriously  compromised  future,  and 
restoring  him  to  a  state  no  worse  than  his  first.  His 
annuity  could  be  enjoyed  by  him,  his  travels  under- 

256 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

taken,  his  studies  pursued,  his  high  vocation  initiated, 
by  one  little  sacrifice — that  of  herself.  She  only  had 
to  refuse  to  legalize  their  marriaore,  to  part  from  him 
for  ever,  and  all  would  be  well  with  him  thenceforward. 
The  pain  to  him  would  after  all  be  but  slight,  what- 
ever it  might  be  to  his  wretched  Viviette. 
;  The  ineptness  of  retaining  him  at  her  side  lay  not 

:  only  in  the  fact  itself  of  injury  to  him,  but  in  the 
.:  ^  likelihood  of  his  living  to  see  it  as  such,  and  re- 
ar,; j  proaching  her  for  selfishness  in  not  letting  him  go  in 
k  this  unprecedented  opportunity  for  correcting  a  move 
I  proved  to  be  false.  He  wished  to  examine  the 
southern  heavens — perhaps  his  uncle's  letter  was  the 
father  of  the  wish — and  there  was  no  telling  what 
good  might  not  result  to  mankind  at  large  from  his 
exploits  there.  Why  should  she,  to  save  her  narrow 
honour,  waste  the  wide  promise  of  his  ability  ? 

That  in  immolating  herself  by  refusing  him,  and 
leaving  him  free  to  work  wonders  for  the  good  of  his 
fellow-creatures,  she  would  in  all  probability  add  to 
the  sum  of  human  felicity,  consoled  her  by  its  breadth 
as  an  idea  even  while  it  tortured  her  by  making 
herself  the  scapegoat  or  single  unit  on  whom  the  evil 
would  fall.  Ought  a  possibly  large  number,  Swithin 
included,  to  remain  unbenefited  because  the  one  indi- 
vidual to  whom  his  release  would  be  an  injury  chanced 
to  be  herself?  Love  between  man  and  woman,  which 
in  Homer,  Moses,  and  other  early  exhibitors  of  life, 
is  mere  desire,  had  for  centuries  past  so  far  broadened 
as  to  include  sympathy  and  friendship ;  surely  it 
should  in  this  advanced  stage  of  the  world  include 
benevolence  also.  If  so,  it  was  her  duty  to  set  her 
young  man  free. 

Thus  she  laboured,  with  a  generosity  more  worthy 
even  than  its  object,  to  sink  her  love  for  her  own 
decorum  in  devotion  to  the  world  in  general,  and  to 
Swithin  in  particular.  To  counsel  her  activities  by 
her  understanding,  rather  than  by  her  emotions  as 
usual,  was  hard  work  for  a  tender  woman ;  but  she 

257 


strove  hard,  and  made  advance.  The  self-centred 
attitude  natural  to  one  in  her  situation  was  becoming 
displaced  by  the  sympathetic  attitude,  which,  though 
it  had  to  be  artificially  fostered  at  first,  gave  her,  by 
degrees,  a  certain  sweet  sense  that  she  was  rising 
above  self-love.  That  maternal  element  which  had 
from  time  to  time  evinced  itself  in  her  affection  for  the 
youth,  and  was  imparted  by  her  superior  ripeness  in 
experience  and  years,  appeared  now  again,  as  she 
drew  nearer  the  resolve  not  to  secure  propriety  in  her 
own  social  condition  at  the  expense  of  this  youth's 
earthly  utility. 

Unexpectedly  grand  fruits  are  sometimes  forced 
forth  by  harsh  pruning.  The  illiberal  letter  of  Swithin's 
uncle  was  suggesting  to  Lady  Constantine  an  altruism 
whose  thoroughness  would  probably  have  amazed  that 
queer  old  gentleman  into  a  withdrawal  of  the  conditions 
that  had  induced  it.  To  love  St.  Cleeve  so  far  better 
than  herself  as  this  was  to  surpass  the  love  of  women 
as  conventionally  understood,  and  as  mostly  existing. 

Before,  however,  clinching  her  decision  by  any 
definite  step  she  worried  her  little  brain  by  devising 
every  kind  of  ingenious  scheme,  in  the  hope  of  lighting 
on  one  that  might  show  her  how  that  decision  could 
be  avoided  with  the  same  good  result.  But  to  secure 
for  him  the  advantages  offered,  and  to  retain  him 
likewise  ;  reflection  only  showed  it  to  be  impossible. 

Yet  to  let  him  ^o  for  ever  ^"3,^  more  than  she  could 
endure,  and  at  length  she  jumped  at  an  idea  which 
promised  some  sort  of  improvement  on  that  design. 
She  would  propose  that  reunion  should  not  be  entirely 
abandoned,  but  simply  postponed — namely,  till  after 
his  twenty-fifth  birthday — when  he  might  be  her  hus- 
band without,  at  any  rate,  the  loss  to  him  of  the 
income.  By  this  time  he  would  approximate  to  a 
man's  full  judgment,  and  that  painful  aspect  of  her 
as  one  who  had  deluded  his  raw  immaturity  would 
have  passed  for  ever. 

The    plan    somewhat    appeased     her    disquieted 

258 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

honour.  To  let  a  marriage  sink  into  abeyance  for  four 
or  five  years  was  not  to  nullify  it ;  and  though  she 
would  leave  it  to  him  to  move  its  substantiation  at  the 
end  of  that  time,  without  present  stipulations,  she  had 
not  much  doubt  upon  the  issue. 

The  clock  struck  five.  This  silent  mental  debate 
had  occupied  her  whole  afternoon.  Perhaps  it  would 
not  have  ended  now  but  for  an  unexpected  incident 
— the  entry  of  her  brother  Louis.  He  came  into  the 
room  where  she  was  sitting,  or  rather  writhing,  and 
after  a  few  words  to  explain  how  he  had  got  there  and 
about  the  mistake  in  the  date  of  Sir  Blount's  death, 
he  walked  up  close  to  her.  His  next  remarks  were 
apologetic  in  form,  but  in  essence  they  were  bitterness 
itself. 

*  Viviette,'  he  said,  *  I  am  sorry  for  my  hasty  words 
to  you  when  I  last  left  this  house.  I  readily  withdraw 
them.  My  suspicions  took  a  wrong  direction.  I 
think  now  that  I  know  the  truth.  You  have  been 
even  madder  than  I  supposed !  * 

*  In  what  way  ?'  she  asked  distantly. 

*  I  lately  thought  that  unhappy  young  man  was  only 
your  too-favoured  lover.' 

*  You  thought  wrong  :  he  is  not.* 

*  He  is  not — I  believe  you — for  he  is  more.  I  now 
am  persuaded  that  he  is  your  lawful  husband.  Can 
you  deny  it ! ' 

*  I  can.* 

'  On  your  sacred  word ! ' 

*  On  my  sacred  word  he  is  not  that  either.' 

*  Thank  heaven  for  that  assurance ! '  said  Louis, 
exhaling  a  breath  of  relief.  *  I  was  not  so  positive  as 
I  pretended  to  be — but  I  wanted  to  know  the  truth 
of  this  mystery.  Since  you  are  not  fettered  to  him 
in  that  way  I  care  nothing.* 

Louis  turned  away ;  and  that  afforded  her  an 
opportunity  for  leaving  the  room.  Those  few  words 
were  the  last  grains  that  had  turned  the  balance,  and 
settled  her  doom. 

259 


\ 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

She  would  let  Swithin  go.  All  the  voices  in  her 
world  seemed  to  clamour  for  that  consummation.  The 
morning's  mortification,  the  afternoon's  benevolence, 
and  the  evening's  instincts  of  evasion  had  joined  to 
carry  the  point. 

Accordingly  she  sat  down,  and  wrote  to  Swithin  a 

summary  of  the  thoughts  above  detailed. 

» 

*  We  shall  separate/  she  concluded.  *  You  to  obey  your  • 
uncle's  orders  and  explore  the  southern  skies ;  I  to  wait  as 
one  who  can  implicitly  trust  you.  Do  not  see  me  again  till 
the  years  have  expired.  You  will  find  me  still  the  same.  I 
am  your  wife  through  all  time ;  the  letter  of  the  law  is  not 
needed  to  reassert  it  at  present ;  while  the  absence  of  the 
letter  secures  your  fortune.' 

Nothing  can  express  what  it  cost  Lady  Constantine 
to  marshal  her  arguments ;  but  she  did  it,  and  van- 
quished self-comfort  by  a  sense  of  the  general  expedi- 
ency. It  may  unhesitatingly  be  affirmed  that  the  only 
ignoble  reason  which  might  have  dictated  such  a  step 
was  non-existent ;  that  is  to  say,  a  serious  decline  in 
her  affection.  Tenderly  she  had  loved  the  youth  at 
first,  and  tenderly  she  loved  him  now,  as  time  and  her 
after-conduct  proved. 

Women  the  most  delicate  get  used  to  strange  moral 
situations.  Eve  probably  regained  her  normal  sweet 
composure  about  a  week  after  the  Fall.  On  first 
learning  of  her  anomalous  position  Lady  Constantine 
had  blushed  hot,  and  her  pure  instincts  had  prompted  . 
her  to  legalize  her  marriage  without  a  moment's  delay. 
Heaven  and  earth  were  to  be  moved  at  once  to  effect 
it.  Day  after  day  had  passed  ;  her  union  had  remained  . 
unsecured,  and  the  idea  of  its  nullity  had  gradually  ■ 
ceased  to  be  strange  to  her ;  till  it  became  of  little  \ 
account  beside  her  bold  resolve  for  the  young  man's  ; 
sake. 


1 


XXXVI 


The  immediate  effect  upon  St.  Cleeve  of  the  receipt 
of  her  well-reasoned  argument  for  retrocession  was, 
naturally,  a  bitter  attack  upon  himself  for  having  been 
guilty  of  such  cruel  carelessness  as  to  leave  in  her  way 
the  lawyer's  letter  that  had  first  made  her  aware  of  his 
uncle's  provision  for  him.  Immature  as  he  was,  he 
could  realize  Viviette's  position  sufficiently  well  to 
perceive  what  the  poor  lady  must  suffer  at  havincr 
suddenly  thrust  upon  her  the  responsibility  of  repairing 
her  own  situation  as  a  wife  by  ruining  his  as  a  legatee. 
True,  it  was  by  the  purest  inadvertence  that  his 
pending  sacrifice  of  means  had  been  discovered  ;  but 
he  should  have  taken  special  pains  to  render  such  a 
mishap  impossible.  If  on  the  first  occasion,  when  a 
revelation  might  have  been  made  with  impunity,  he 
would  not  put  it  in  the  power  of  her  good  nature  to 
relieve  his  position  by  refusing  him,  he  should  have 
shown  double  care  not  to  do  so  now,  when  she  could 
not  exercise  that  benevolence  without  the  loss  of 
honour. 

With  a  young  man's  inattention  to  issues  he  had 
not  considered  how  sharp  her  feelings  as  a  woman 
must  be  in  this  contingency.  It  had  seemed  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  remedy  the  defect  in  their 
marriage,  and  therefore  nothing  to  be  anxious  about. 
And  in  his  innocence  of  any  thought  of  appropriating 
the  bequest  by  taking  advantage  of  the  loophole  in  his 
1  matrimonial  bond,  he  undervalued  the  importance  of 
i  concealing  the  existence  of  that  bequest 

261 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  looming  fear  of  unhappiness  between  them 
revived  in  Swithin  the  warm  emotions  of  their  earlier 
acquaintance.  Almost  before  the  sun  had  set  he 
hastened  to  Welland  House  in  search  of  her.  The 
air  was  disturbed  by  stiff  summer  blasts,  productive  of 
windfalls  and  premature  descents  of  leafage.  It  was 
an  hour  when  unripe  apples  shower  down  in  orchards, 
and  unbrowned  chestnuts  descend  in  their  husks  upon  t 
the  park  glades.  There  was  no  help  for  it  this  after- 
noon but  to  call  upon  her  in  a  direct  manner,  regard- 
less of  suspicions.  He  was  thunderstruck  when,  while 
waiting  in  the  full  expectation  of  being  admitted  to 
her  presence,  the  answer  brought  back  to  him  was  that 
she  was  unable  to  see  him. 

This  had  never  happened  before  in  the  whole 
course  of  their  acquaintance.  But  he  knew  what  it 
meant,  and  turned  away  with  a  vague  disquietude. 
He  did  not  know  that  Lady  Constantine  was  just 
above  his  head,  listening  to  his  movements  with  the 
liveliest  emotions,  and,  while  praying  for  him  to  go, 
longing  for  him  to  insist  on  seeing  her  and  spoil  all. 
But  the  faintest  symptom  being  always  sufficient  to 
convince  him  of  having  blundered,  he  unwittingly  took 
her  at  her  word,  and  went  rapidly  away. 

However,  he  called  again  the  next  day,  and  she, 
having  gained  strength  by  one  victory  over  herself, 
was  enabled  to  repeat  her  refusal  with  greater  ease. 
Knowing  this  to  be  the  only  course  by  which  her 
point  could  be  maintained,  she  clung  to  it  with  strenu- 
ous and  religious  pertinacity. 

Thus  immured  and  self-controlling  she  passed  a 
week.  Her  brother,  though  he  did  not  live  in  the 
house  (preferring  the  nearest  watering-place  at  this|^ 
time  of  the  year),  was  continually  coming  there  ;  and 
one  day  he  happened  to  be  present  when  she  denied 
herself  to  Swithin  for  the  third  time.  Louis,  who  did 
not  observe  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  was  astonished  and 
delighted  :  she  was  coming  to  her  senses  at  last.  Be- 
lieving now  that  there  had  been  nothing  more  between 

262 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

"  them  than  a  too-plainly  shown  partiality  on  her  part, 
he  expressed  his  commendation  of  her  conduct  to  her 
face.  At  this,  instead  of  owning  to  its  advantage  also, 
her  tears  burst  forth  outright. 

Not  knowing  what  to  make  of  this,  Louis  said — 

*  Well,  I  am  simply  upholding  you  in  your  course.' 

'Yes,  yes;   I  know  it!'  she  cried.      'And  it  is  my 

deliberately  chosen   course.      I   wish   he — Swithin  St. 

t;|i  Cleeve — would  go  on  his  travels  at  once,  and  leave  the 

■     place  !     Six  hundred  a  year  has  been  left  him  for  travel 

and  study  of  the  southern  constellations  ;  and  I  wish 

he  would  use  it.     You  might  represent  the  advantage 

to  him  of  the  course  if  you  cared  to.' 

I        Louis    thought   he    could   do    no    better   than    let 

Swithin  know  this  as  soon  as  possible.     Accordingly 

when  St.  Cleeve  was  writing  in  the  hut  the  next  day 

he  heard  the  crackle  of  footsteps  over  the  fir-needles 

outside,  and  jumped  up,  supposing  them  to  be  hers ; 

but,  to  his   disappointment,  it  was   her  brother  who 

§K  j  appeared  at  the  door. 

'  Excuse  my  invading  the  hermitage,  St.  Cleeve,' 
he  said  in  his  careless  way,  *  but  I  have  heard  from  my 
,  sister  of  your  good  fortune.' 
I        *  My  good  fortune  ?  ' 

*  Yes,  in  having  an  opportunity  for  roving ;  and 
with  a  traveller's  conceit  I  couldn't  help  coming  to 
give  you  the  benefit  of  my  experience.     When  do  you 

^  start  ? ' 

'  I  have  not  formed  any  plan  as  yet.     Indeed,  I  had 
'  I  not  quite  been  thinking  of  going.' 
Louis  stared. 

*  Not  going  ?  Then  I  may  have  been  misinformed. 
;:.  kWhat  I  have  heard  is  that  a  good  uncle  has  kindly 
a::  'bequeathed  you  a  sufficient  income  to  make  a  second 
?  '  Isaac  Newton  of  you,  if  you  only  use  it  as  he  directs.' 

Swithin  breathed  quickly,  but  said  nothing. 

'  If  you  have  not  decided  so  to  make  use  of  it,  let 
Dflme  implore  you,  as  your  friend,  and  one  nearly  old 
ed  [enough  to  be  your  father,  to  decide  at  once.  Such  a 
,i  263 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


I 


chance  does  not  happen  to  a  scientific  youth  once  in  a 
century.' 

*  Thank  you  for  your  good  advice — for  it  is  good  in 
itself,  I  know,'  said  Swithin,  in  a  low  voice.     *  But  haS: 
Lady  Constantine  spoken  of  it  at  all  ? ' 

*  She  thinks  as  I  do.'  | 

*  She  has  spoken  to  you  on  the  subject  ? ' 

*  Certainly.  More  than  that ;  it  is  at  her  request — 
though  I  did  not  intend  to  say  so — that  I  come  to 
speak  to  you  about  it  now.' 

'Frankly  and  plainly,'  said  Swithin,  his  voice  trem- 
bling with  a  compound  of  scientific  and  amatory 
emotion  that  defies  definition,  *  does  she  say  seriously 
that  she  wishes  me  to  go  ? ' 

*She  does.' 

'Then  go  I  will,'  replied  Swithin  firmly.  *  I  have 
been  fortunate  enough  to  interest  some  leading  astro- 
nomers, including  the  Astronomer  Royal  ;  and  in  a 
letter  received  this  morning  I  learn  that  the  use  of 
the  Cape  Observatory  has  been  offered  me  for  any^ 
southern  observations  I  may  wish  to  make.  This 
offer  I  will  accept.  Will  you  kindly  let  Lady  Con- 
stantine know  this,  since  she  is  interested  in  my 
welfare  ? ' 

Louis  promised,  and  when  he  was  gone  Swithin 
looked  blankly  at  his  own  situation,  as  if  he  could 
scarcely  believe  in  its  reality.  Her  letter  to  him, 
then,  had  been  deliberately  written ;  she  meant  him 
to  go. 

But  he  was  determined  that  none  of  those  misr 
understandings  which  ruin  the  happiness  of  lovers 
should  be  allowed  to  operate  in  the  present  case. 
He  would  see  her,  if  he  slept  under  her  walls  all, 
night  to  do  it,  and  would  hear  the  order  to  depart 
from  her  own  lips.  This  unexpected  stand  she  was 
making  for  his  interests  was  winning  his  admiration 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  be  in  danger  of  defeating  the 
very  cause  it  was  meant  to  subserve.  A  woman  like 
this  was  not  to  be  forsaken  in  a  hurry.     He  wrote 

264 


I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

two  lines,    and   left   the   note   at   the   house   with    his 
own  hand. 

The  Cabin,  Rings-Hill, 
July  1th. 

Dearest  Viviette— If  you  insist,  I  will  go.  But 
letter-writing  will  not  do.  I  must  have  the  command  from 
your  own  two  lips,  otherwise  I  shall  not  stir.  I  am  here 
every  evening  at  seven.     Can  you  come  ?  — S. 

This  note,  as  fate  would  have  it,  reached  her 
hands  in  the  single  hour  of  that  week  when  she  was 
in  a  mood  to  comply  with  his  request,  just  when 
moved  by  a  reactionary  emotion  after  dismissing 
Swithin.  She  went  upstairs  to  the  window  that  had 
so  long  served  purposes  of  this  kind,  and  signalled 
'Yes.' 

St.  Cleeve  soon  saw  the  answer  she  had  given, 
and  watched  her  approach  from  the  tower  as  the 
sunset  drew  on.  The  vivid  circumstances  of  his  life 
at  this  date  led  him  ever  to  remember  the  external 
scenes  in  which  they  were  set.  It  was  an  evening  of 
exceptional  irradiations,  and  the  west  heaven  gleamed 
like  a  foundry  of  all  metals  common  and  *rare.  The 
clouds  were  broken  into  a  thousand  fragments,  and 
the  margin  of  every  fragment  shone.  Foreseeing  the 
disadvantage  and  pain  to  her  of  maintaining  a  resolve 
under  the  pressure  of  a  meeting,  he  vowed  not  to 
urge  her  by  word  or  sign  ;  to  put  the  question  plainly 
and  calmly,  and  to  discuss  it  on  a  reasonable  basis 
only,  like  the  philosophers  they  assumed  themselves 
to  be. 

But  this  intention  was  scarcely  adhered  to  in  all 
its  integrity.  She  duly  appeared  on  the  edge  of  the 
idield,  flooded  with  the  metallic  radiance  that  marked 
the  close  of  this  day  ;  whereupon  he  quickly  descended 
the  steps,  and  met  her  at  the  cabin  door.  They 
entered  it  together. 

As  the  evening  grew  darker  and  darker  he  listened 
to  her  reasoning,  which  was  precisely  a  repetition  of 

265 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

that  already  sent  him  by  letter,  and  by  degrees  accepted 
her  decision,  since  she  would  not  revoke  it.  Time 
came  for  them  to  say  good-bye,  and  then — 

He  turn'd  and  saw  the  terror  in  her  eyes, 
That  yearn'd  upon  him  shining  in  such  wise 
As  a  star  midway  in  the  midnight  fix'd. 

It  was  the  misery  of  her  own  condition  that  showed 
forth,  hitherto  obscured  by  her  ardour  for  amelio- 
rating his.  They  closed  together,  and  kissed  each 
other  as  though  the  emotion  of  their  whole  year- 
and-halfs  acquaintance  had  settled  down  upon  that 
moment. 

*  I  won't  go  away  from  you ! '  said  Swithin  huskily. 
'  Why  did  you  propose  it  for  an  instant  ?  ' 

Thus  the  nearly  ended  interview  was  again  pro- 
longed, and  Viviette  yielded  to  all  the  passion  of 
her  first  union  with  him.  Time,  however,  was  merci- 
less, and  the  hour  approached  midnight,  and  she 
was  compelled  to  depart.  Swithin  walked  with  her 
towards  the  house,  as  he  had  walked  many  times  be- 
fore, believing  that  all  was  now  smooth  again  between 
them,  and  caring,  it  must  be  owned,  very  little  for 
his  fame  as  an  expositor  of  the  southern  constellations 
just  then. 

When  they  reached  the  silent  house  he  said  what 
he  had  not  ventured  to  say  before,  '  Fix  the  day — 
you  have  decided  that  it  is  to  be  soon,  and  that  I  am 
not  to  go  ?  ' 

But  youthful  Swithin  was  far,  very  far,  from  being  • 
up  to  the  fond  subtlety  of  Viviette  this  evening.      *  I 
cannot  decide  here,'  she  said  gently,  releasing  herself!] 
from  his  arm  ;   '  I  will  speak  to  you  from  the  window. 
Wait  for  me.* 

She  vanished  ;  and  he  waited.  It  was  a  long  time 
before  the  window  opened,  and  he  was  not  aware 
that,  \\  'th  her  customary  complication  of  feeling,  she 
had  knelt  for  some  time  inside  the  room  before  look- 
ing out. 

266  1 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

'Well?'  said  he. 

*  It  cannot  be,'  she  answered.  '  I  cannot  ruin  you. 
But  the  day  after  you  are  five-and-twenty  our  marriage 
shall  be  confirmed,  if  you  choose.' 

'  O,  my  Viviette,  how  is  this ! '  he  cried. 

*Swithin,  I  have  not  altered.  But  I  feared  for  mv 
powers,  and  could  not  tell  you  whilst  I  stood  by  your 
side.  I  ought  not  to  have  given  way  as  I  did  to-night. 
Take  the  bequest,  and  go.  You  are  too  young — to 
be  fettered — I  should  have  thought  of  it !  Do  not 
communicate  with  me  for  at  least  a  year  :  it  is  im- 
perative. Do  not  tell  me  your  plans.  If  we  part,  we 
do  part.  I  have  vowed  a  vow  not  to  further  obstruct 
the  course  you  had  decided  on  before  you  knew  me 
and  my  puling  ways;  and  by  Heaven's  help  I'll  keep 
that  vow.  .  .  .  Now  go.  These  are  the  parting  words 
of  your  own  Viviette  ! ' 

Swithin,  who  was  stable  as  a  giant  in  all  that  apper- 
tained to  nature  and  life  outside  humanity,  was  a  mere 
pupil  in  domestic  matters.  He  was  quite  awed  by  her 
firmness,  and  looked  vacantly  at  her  for  a  time,  till 
she  closed  the  window.  Then  he  mechanically  turned, 
and  went,  as  she  had  commanded. 


XXXVII 

A  WEEK  had  passed  away.  It  had  been  a  time  of 
cloudy  mental  weather  to  Swithin  and  Vivlette,  but 
the  only  noteworthy  fact  about  it  was  that  what  had 
been  planned  to  happen  therein  had  actually  taken 
place.  Swithin  had  gone  from  Welland,  and  would 
shortly  go  from  England. 

She  became  aware  of  it  by  a  note  that  he  posted 
to  her  on  his  way  through  Warborne.  There  was 
much  evidence  of  haste  in  the  note,  and  something  of 
reserve.  The  latter  she  could  not  understand,  but  it 
might  have  been  obvious  enough  if  she  had  considered. 

On  the  morning  of  his  departure  he  had  sat  on 
the  edge  of  his  bed,  the  sunlight  streaming  through 
the  early  mist,  the  house-martens  scratching  the  back 
of  the  ceiling  over  his  head  as  they  scrambled  out 
from  the  roof  for  their  day's  gnat-chasing,  the  thrushes 
cracking  snails  on  the  garden  stones  outside  with  the 
noisiness  of  little  smiths  at  work  on  little  anvils. 
The  sun,  in  sending  its  rods  of  yellow  fire  into  his 
room,  sent,  as  he  suddenly  thought,  mental  illumina- 
tion with  it.  For  the  first  time,  as  he  sat  there,  it 
had  crossed  his  mind  that  Viviette  might  have  reasons 
for  this  separation  which  he  knew  not  of.  There  mio^ht 
be  family  reasons — mysterious  blood-necessities  which 
are  said  to  rule  members  of  old  musty -mansioned 
families,  and  are  unknown  to  other  classes  of  society — 
and  they  may  have  been  just  now  brought  before  her 
by  her  brother  Louis  on  the  condition  that  they  were 
religiously  concealed. 

268 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

The  idea  that  some  family  skeleton,  like  those  he 
had  read  of  in  memoirs,  had  been  unearthed  by  Louis, 
and  held  before  her  terrified  understanding  as  a  matter 
which  rendered  Swithin's  departure,  and  the  neutral- 
ization of  the  marriage,  no  less  indispensable  to  them 
than  it  was  an  advantage  to  himself,  seemed  a  very 
plausible  one  to  Swithin  just  now.  Viviette  mi"^ht 
have  taken  Louis  into  her  confidence  at  last,  for  the 
sake  of  his  brotherly  advice.  Swithin  knew  that  of  her 
own  heart  she  would  never  wish  to  get  rid  of  hini ;  but 
coerced  by  Louis,  might  she  not  have  grown  to  enter- 
tain views  of  its  expediency  .f*  Events  made  such  a 
supposition  on  St.  Cleeve  s  part  as  natural  as  it  was 
inaccurate,  and,  conjoined  with  his  own  excitement 
at  the  thought  of  seeing  a  new  heaven  overhead,  in- 
fluenced him  to  write  but  the  briefest  and  most 
hurried  final  note  to  her,  in  which  he  fully  obeyed  her 
sensitive  request  that  he  would  omit  all  reference  to 
his  plans.  These  at  the  last  moment  had  been  modi- 
fied to  fall  in  with  the  winter  expedition  formerly 
mentioned,  to  observe  the  Transit  of  Venus  at  a  remote 
southern  station. 

The  business  being  done,  and  himself  fairly  plunged 
into  the  preliminaries  of  an  important  scientific  pil- 
grimage, Swithin  acquired  that  lightness  of  heart  which 
most  young  men  feel  in  forsaking  old  love  for  new 
adventure,  no  matter  how  charming  may  be  the  girl 
they  leave  behind  them.  Moreover,  in  the  present 
case,  the  man  was  endowed  with  that  schoolboy 
temperament  which  does  not  see,  or  at  least  consider 
with  much  curiosity,  the  effect  of  a  given  scheme  upon 

I  others  than  himself.     The  bearing  upon   Lady  Con- 
^1  stantine  of  what  was  an  undoubted  predicament  for 

!  any  woman,  was  forgotten  in  his  feeling  that  she  had 
done  a  very  handsome  and  noble  thing  for  him,  and 
that  he  was  therefore  bound  in  honour  to  make  the 
most  of  it. 

His  going  had  resulted  in  anything  but  lightness  of 
heart  for  her.      Her  sad  fancy  could,  indeed,  indulge 

269 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

in  dreams  of  her  yellow-haired  laddie  without  that 
formerly  besetting  fear  that  those  dreams  would  prompt 
her  to  actions  likely  to  distract  and  weight  him.  She 
was  wretched  on  her  own  account,  relieved  on  his. 
She  no  longer  stood  in  the  way  of  his  advancement, 
and  that  was  enough.  For  herself  she  could  live  in 
retirement,  visit  the  wood,  the  old  camp,  the  column, 
and,  like  GEnone,  think  of  the  life  they  had  led  there — 

Mournful  CEnone,  wandering  forlorn 
Of  Paris,  once  her  playmate  on  the  hills, 

leaving  it  entirely  to  his  goodness  whether  he  would 
come  and  claim  her  in  the  future,  or  desert  her  for 
ever. 

She  was  diverted  for  a  time  from  these  sad  per- 
formances by  a  letter  which  reached  her  from  Bishop 
Helmsdale.  To  see  his  handwriting  again  on  an 
envelope,  after  thinking  so  anxiously  of  making  a 
father-confessor  of  him,  startled  her  out  of  her  equa- 
nimity.    She  speedily  regained  it,  however,  when  she 

read  his  note. 

The  Palace,  Melchester, 
July  30,  18—. 

My  dear  Lady  Constantine — I  am  shocked  and 
grieved  that,  in  the  strange  dispensation  of  things  here  below, 
my  offer  of  marriage  should  have  reached  you  almost  simul- 
taneously with  the  intelligence  that  your  widowhood  had  been 
of  many  months  less  duration  than  you  and  I,  and  the  world, 
had  supposed.  I  can  quite  understand  that,  viewed  from  any 
side,  the  news  must  have  shaken  and  disturbed  you  ;  and  your  * 
unequivocal  refusal  to  entertain  any  thought  of  a  new  alliance  : 
at  such  a  moment  was,  of  course,  intelligible,  natural,  and 
praiseworthy.  At  present  I  will  say  no  more  beyond  express- 
ing a  hope  that  you  will  accept  my  assurances  that  I  was  ; 
quite  ignorant  of  the  news  at  the  hour  of  writing,  and  a  i 
sincere  desire  that  in  due  time,  and  as  soon  as  you  have ' 
recovered  your  equanimity,  I  may  be  allowed  to  renew  my  ' 
proposal. — I  am,  my  dear  Lady  Constantine,  yours  ever 
sincerely, 

C.  Melchester. 

She   laid   the   letter  aside,   and   thought   no  more? 

270 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

about  it,  beyond  a  momentary  meditation  on  the  errors 
into  which  people  fall  in  reasoning  from  actions  back  to 
motives.  Louis,  who  was  now  again  with  her,  became 
in  due  course  acquainted  with  the  contents  of  the  letter, 
and  was  satisfied  with  the  promising  position  in  which 
matters  seemingly  stood  all  round. 

Lady  Constantine  went  her  mournful  ways  as  she 
had  planned  to  do,  her  chief  resort  being  the  familiar 
column,  where  she  experienced  the  unutterable  melan- 
choly of  seeing  two  carpenters  dismantle  the  dome  of 
its  felt  covering,  detach  its  ribs,  and  clear  away  the 
enclosure  at  the  top  till  everything  stood  as  it  had 
stood  before  Swithin  had  been  known  to  the  place. 
The  equatorial  had  already  been  packed  in  a  box,  to  be 
in  readiness  if  he  should  send  for  it  from  abroad.  The 
cabin,  too,  was  in  course  of  demolition,  such  having 
been  his  directions,  acquiesced  in  by  her,  before  he 
started.  Yet  she  could  not  bear  the  idea  that  these 
structures,  so  germane  to  the  events  of  their  romance, 
should  be  removed  as  if  removed  for  ever.  Going  to 
the  men  she  bade  them  store  up  the  materials  intact, 
that  they  might  be  re-erected  if  desired.  She  had 
the  junctions  of  the  timbers  marked  with  figures,  the 
boards  numbered,  and  the  different  sets  of  screws  tied 
up  in  independent  papers  for  identification.  She  did 
not  hear  the  remarks  of  the  workmen  when  she  had 
gone,  to  the  effect  that  the  young  man  would  as  soon 
think  of  buying  a  halter  for  himself  as  come  back  and 
spy  at  the  moon  from  Rings- Hill  Speer,  after  seeing 
the  glories  of  other  nations  and  the  gold  and  jewels 
that  were  found  there,  or  she  might  have  been  more 
unhappy  than  she  was. 

On  returning  from  one  of  these  walks  to  the  column 
^a  curious  circumstance  occurred.  It  was  evening,  and 
she  was  coming  as  usual  down  through  the  sighing 
plantation,  choosing  her  way  between  the  ramparts  of 
the  camp  towards  the  outlet  giving  upon  the  field, 
when  suddenly  in  a  dusky  vista  among  the  fir-trunks 
she  saw,  or  thought  she  saw,  a  golden-haired,  toddling 

271 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

child.  The  child  moved  a  step  or  two,  and  vanished 
behind  a  tree.  Lady  Constantine,  fearing  it  had  lost 
its  way,  went  quickly  to  the  spot,  searched,  and  called  li 
aloud.  But  no  child  could  she  perceive  or  hear  any- 
where around.  She  returned  to  where  she  had  stood 
when  first  beholding  it,  and  looked  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, but  nothing  reappeared.  The  only  object  at  all 
resembling  a  little  boy  or  girl  was  the  upper  tuft  of  a 
bunch  of  fern,  which  had  prematurely  yellowed  to 
about  the  colour  of  a  fair  child's  hair,  and  waved 
occasionally  in  the  breeze.  This,  however,  did  not 
sufficiently  explain  the  phenomenon,  and  she  returned 
to  make  inquiries  of  the  man  whom  she  had  left  at 
work,  removing  the  last  traces  of  Swithin's  cabin.  But 
he  had  gone  with  her  departure  and  the  approach  of 
night.  Feeling  an  indescribable  dread  she  retraced 
her  steps,  and  hastened  homeward  doubting,  yet  half 
believing,  what  she  had  seemed  to  see,  and  wondering 
if  her  imagination  had  played  her  some  trick. 

The  tranquil  mournfulness  of  her  night  of  solitude 
terminated  in  a  most  unexpected  manner. 

The  morning  after  the  above-mentioned  incident 
Lady  Constantine,  after  meditating  a  while,  arose  with 
a  strange  personal  conviction  that  bore  curiously  on 
the  aforesaid  hallucination.  She  realized  a  state  of 
things  that  she  had  never  anticipated,  and  for  a  moment 
the  discovery  of  her  condition  so  overwhelmed  her 
that  she  thought  she  must  die  outright.  In  her  terror 
she  said  she  had  sown  the  wind  to  reap  the  whirlwind. 
Then  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  flamed  up  in  her 
like  a  fire.  Her  altruism  in  subjecting  her  self-love  to 
benevolence,  and  letting  Swithin  go  away  from  her, 
was  demolished  by  the  new  necessity,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  gossamer  web. 

There  was  no  resisting  or  evading  the  spontaneous 
plan  of  action  which  matured  in  her  mind  in  five 
minutes.  Where  was  Swithin  ?  how  could  he  be  got 
at  instantly  ? — that  was  her  ruling  thought.  She 
searched    about    the    room    for    his    last   short    note, 

272 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


n 


hoping,  yet  doubting,  that  its  contents  were  more 
explicit  on  his  intended  movements  than  the  few 
meagre  syllables  which  alone  she  could  call  to  mind. 
She  could  not  find  the  letter  in  her  room,  and  came 
downstairs  to  Louis  as  pale  as  a  ghost. 

He  looked  up  at  her,  and  with  some  concern  said, 
*  What's  the  matter  ?  ' 

'  I  am  searching  everywhere  for  a  letter — a  note 
from  Mr.  St.  Cleeve — just  a  few  words  telling  me  when 
the  Occidental  s^A's>,  that  I  think  he  goes  in.' 

*  Why  do  you  want  that  unimportant  document.'* ' 
'  It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  I  should  know 

whether  he  has  actually  sailed  or  not !  *  said  she  in 
agonized  tones.      '  Where  can  that  letter  be  } ' 

Louis  knew  where  that  letter  was,  for  having  seen 
it  on  her  desk  he  had,  without  reading  it,  torn  it  up 
and  thrown  it  into  the  waste- paper  basket,  thinking 
the  less  that  remained  to  remind  her  of  the  young 
philosopher  the  better. 

*  I  destroyed  it,'  he  said. 

*  O  Louis  !  why  did  you  "^  '  she  cried.  *  I  am  going 
to  follow  him  ;  I  think  it  best  to  do  so ;  and  I  want 
to  know  if  he  is  gone — and  now  the  date  is  lost  ! ' 

'  Going  to  run  after  St.  Cleeve  ?     Absurd  ! ' 

*  Yes,  1  am  !  '  she  said  with  vehement  firmness.  *  I 
must  see  him  ;  I  want  to  speak  to  him  as  soon  as 
possible.' 

*  Good  Lord,  VIviette  !     Are  you  mad  } ' 
'  O  what  was  the  date  of  that  ship  !     But  it  cannot 

be  helped.  I  start  at  once  for  Southampton.  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  do  it.  He  was  going  to  his 
uncle's  solicitors  in  the  North  first ;  then  he  was 
coming  back  to  Southampton.  He  cannot  have  sailed 
yet.' 

*  I  believe  he  has  sailed,*  muttered  Louis  sullenly. 
She  did  not  wait  to  argue  with  him,  but  returned 

upstairs,  where  she  rang  to  tell  Green  to  be  ready  with 
the  pony  to  drive  her  to  Warborne  station  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour. 

273 


XXXVIII 

Viviette's  determination  to  hamper  S within  no  longer 
had  led  her,  as  has  been  shown,  to  balk  any  weak 
impulse  to  entreat  his  return,  by  forbidding  him  to 
furnish  her  with  his  foreign  address.  His  ready  dis- 
position, his  fear  that  there  might  be  other  reasons 
behind,  made  him  obey  her  only  too  literally.  Thus, 
to  her  terror  and  dismay,  she  had  placed  a  gratuitous 
difficulty  in  the  way  of  her  present  endeavour. 

She  was  ready  before  Green,  and  urged  on  that 
factotum  so  wildly  as  to  leave  him  no  time  to  change 
his  corduroys  and  *  skitty-boots  '  in  which  he  had  been 
gardening  ;  he  therefore  turned  himself  into  a  coach- 
man as  far  down  as  his  waist  merely — clapping  on  his 
proper  coat,  hat,  and  waistcoat,  and  wrapping  a  rug 
over  his  horticultural  half  below.  In  this  compromise 
he  appeared  at  the  door,  mounted,  and  reins  in  hand. 

Seeing  how  sad  and  determined  Viviette  was, 
Louis  pitied  her  so  far  as  to  put  nothing  in  the  way 
of  her  starting,  though  he  forbore  to  help  her.  He 
thought  her  conduct  sentimental  foolery,  the  outcome 
of  mistaken  pity  and  '  such  a  kind  of  gain-giving  as 
would  trouble  a  woman ' ;  and  he  decided  that  it  would 
be  better  to  let  this  mood  burn  itself  out  than  to  keep 
it  smouldering  by  obstruction. 

*  Do  you  remember  the  date  of  his  sailing  ?  *  she 
said  finally,  as  the  pony-carriage  turned  to  drive  off. 

'  He  sails  on  the  25th,  that  is,  to-day.  But  it  may 
not  be  till  late  in  the  evening.* 

With  this  she  started,  and  reached  Warborne  in 

274 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

time  for  the  up -train.  How  much  longer  than  it 
really  is  a  long  journey  can  seem  to  be,  was  fully 
learnt  by  the  unhappy  Viviette  that  day.  The 
changeful  procession  of  country  seats  past  which  she 
was  dragged,  the  names  and  memories  of  their  owners, 
had  no  points  of  interest  for  her  now.  She  reached 
Southampton  about  midday,  and  drove  straight  to  the 
docks. 

On  approaching  the  gates  she  was  met  by  a 
crowd  of  people  and  vehicles  coming  out  —  men, 
women,  children,  porters,  police,  cabs,  and  carts.  The 
Occidental  had  just  sailed. 

The  adverse  intelligence  came  upon  her  with  such 
odds  after  her  morning's  tension  that  she  could  scarcely 
crawl  back  to  the  cab  which  had  brought  her.  But 
this  was  not  a  time  to  succumb.  As  she  had  no 
luggage  she  dismissed  the  man,  and,  without  any  real 
consciousness  of  what  she  was  doing,  crept  away  and 
sat  down  on  a  pile  of  merchandise. 

After  long  thinking  her  case  assumed  a  more 
hopeful  complexion.  Much  might  probably  be  done 
towards  communicating  with  him  in  the  time  at  her 
command.  The  obvious  step  to  this  end,  which  she 
should  have  thought  of  sooner,  would  be  to  go  to  his 
grandmother  in  Welland  Bottom,  and  there  obtain  his 
itinerary  in  detail — no  doubt  well  known  to  Mrs. 
Martin.  There  was  no  leisure  for  her  to  consider 
longer  if  she  would  be  home  again  that  night  ;  and 
returning  to  the  railway  she  waited  on  a  seat  without 
eating  or  drinking  till  a  train  was  ready  to  take  her 
back. 

By  the  time  she  again  stood  in  Warborne  the  sun 
^rested  his  chin  upon  the  meadows,  and  enveloped  the 
distant  outline  of  the  Rings- Hill  column  in  his  humid 
rays.  Hiring  an  empty  fly  that  chanced  to  be  at  the 
station  she  was  driven  through  the  little  town  onward 
to  Welland,  which  she  approached  about  eight  o'clock. 
At  her  request  the  man  set  her  down  at  the  entrance 
to  the  park,  and  when  he  was  out  of  sight,  instead  of 

27  5 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

pursuing  her  way  to  the  House,  she  went  along  the 
high  road  in  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Martin's. 

Dusk  was  drawing  on,  and  the  bats  were  wheeling 
over  the  green  basin  called  Welland  Bottom  by  the 
time  she  arrived  ;  and  had  any  other  errand  instigated  i 
her  call  she  would  have  postponed  it  till  the  morrow. 
Nobody  responded  to  her  knock,  but  she  could  hear : 
footsteps  going  hither  and  thither  upstairs,  and  dull 
noises  as  of  articles  moved  from   their  places.     She 
knocked  again  and  again,  and  ultimately  the  door  was  i 
opened  by  Hannah  as  usual. 

*  I  could  make  nobody  hear,'  said  Lady  Constantine,  i 
who  was  so  weary  she  could  scarcely  stand. 

*  I  am  very  sorry,  my  lady,'  said  Hannah,  slightly 
awed  on  beholding  her  visitor.  *  But  we  was  a  putting 
poor  Mr.  Swithin's  room  to  rights,  now  that  he  is,  as  a 
woman  may  say,  dead  and  buried  to  us  ;  so  we  didn't 
hear  your  ladyship.  I'll  call  Mrs.  Martin  at  once. 
She  is  up  in  the  room  that  used  to  be  his  work-room.' 

Here  Hannah's  voice  implied  moist  eyes,  and 
Lady  Constantine's  instantly  overflowed. 

*  No,  I'll  go  up  to  her,'  said  Viviette  ;  and  almost 
in  advance  of  Hannah  she  passed  up  the  shrunken 
ash  stairs. 

The  ebbing  light  was  not  enough  to  reveal  to  Mrs. 
Martin's  aged  gaze  the  personality  of  her  visitor,  till 
Hannah  explained. 

*  I'll  get  a  light,  my  lady,'  said  she. 

*  No,  I  would  rather  not.  What  are  you  doing, 
Mrs.  Martin  ?  ' 

*  Well,  the  poor  misguided  boy  is  gone — and  he's: 
gone  for  good  to  me  !     I  am  a  woman  of  over  four- 
score   years,    my    Lady    Constantine :    my   junketingj 
days  are  over,  and  whether  'tis  feasting  or  whether  'tis^ 
sorrowing  in   the   land   will    soon   be   nothing  to   me. 
But  his  life  may  be  long  and  active,  and  for  the  sake 
of  him  I  care  for  what  I  shall  never  see,  and  wish  to 
make  pleasant  what  I  shall  never  enjoy.      I  am  setting: 
his  room  in  order,  as  the  place  will  be  his  own  life- 

276 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

hold  when   I   am  gone,  so  that  when  he  comes  back 

he  may  find  all  his  poor  jim-cracks  and  trangleys 
4  as  he  left  'em,  and  not  feel  that  I  have  betrayed  his 
ti  trust.' 

ate  Mrs.  Martin's  voice  revealed  that  she  had  burst 
roi  into  such  few  tears  as  were  left  her,  and  then  Hannah 
k  began  crying  likewise  ;  whereupon  Lady  Constantine, 
di  whose  heart  had  been  bursting  all  day  (and  who, 
SI  indeed,  considering  her  coming  trouble,  had  reason 
%  enough  for  tears),  broke  into  bitterer  sobs  than  either 

— sobs  of  absolute  pain,  that  could  no  longer  be 
tin  concealed. 

Hannah    was    the    first    to    discover    that    Lady 
U  Constantine  was  weeping  with  them  ;  and  her  feelings 

being  probably  the  least  intense  among  the  three  she 

instantly  controlled  herself. 

'  Refrain  yourself,   my  dear   woman,  refrain ! '  she 

said  hastily  to  Mrs.  Martin  ;   *  don't  ye  see  how  it  do 

raft  my  lady  ?  '   And  turning  to  Viviette  she  whispered, 

*  Her  years  be  so  great,  your  ladyship,   that  perhaps 

ye'll  excuse  her  for  busting  out  afore  'ee  ?  We  know 
no  when  the  mind  is  dim,  my  lady,  there's  not  the 
le  manners   there   should   be ;  but  decayed  people   can't 

lelp  it,  poor  old  soul ! ' 
ilp         '  Hannah,     that    will    do    now.       Perhaps    Lady 
ti  Constantine  would   like   to   speak   to  me  alone,'  said 

Mrs.  Martin.     And  when  Hannah  had  retreated  Mrs. 

Martin  continued  :  *  Such  a  charge  as  she  is,  my  lady, 
m  on   account    of  her  great    age !       You'll    pardon    her 

aiding  here  as  if  she  were  one  of  the  family.  I  put  up 
f.j  with  such  things  because  of  her  long  service,  and  we 

enow  that  years  lead  to  childishness.' 

*  What  are  you  doing  ?     Can  I  help  you  ?  '  Viviette 

asked,  as  Mrs.   Martin,  after  speaking,  turned  to  lift 

some  large  article. 

'Oh,    'tis  only  the  skeleton  of  a  telescope  that's 

yot   no  works    in   his   inside,'    said    Swithin's   grand- 

'mother,  seizing  the  huge  pasteboard  tube  that  Swithin 
,jhad  made,  and  abandoned  because  he  could  get  no 

277 


tiiiB 
as 

dr. 
m 
t 
an 


31 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

lenses  to  suit  it.     *  I  am  going  to  hang  it  up  to  these 
hooks,  and  there  it  will  bide  till  he  comes  again.' 

Lady  Constantine  took  one  end,  and  the  tube  was 
hung  up  against  the  whitewashed  wall  by  strings  that 
the  old  woman  had  tied  round  it. 

*  Here's  all  his  equinoctial  lines,  and  his  topics  of 
Capricorn,  and  I  don't  know  what  besides,'  Mrs. 
Martin  continued,  pointing  to  some  charcoal  scratches  |j 
on  the  wall.  '  I  shall  never  rub  'em  out ;  no,  though 
'tis  such  untidiness  as  I  was  never  brought  up  to,  I 
shall  never  rub  'em  out.' 

*  Where  has  Swithin  gone  to  first  ?  '  asked  Viviette  ? 
anxiously.  '  Where  does  he  say  you  are  to  write  to  i 
him?' 

*  Nowhere  yet,  my  lady.  He's  gone  traipsing  all 
over  Europe  and  America,  and  then  to  the  South 
Pacific  Ocean  about  this  Transit  of  Venus  that's  going 
to  be  done  there.  He  is  to  write  to  us  first — God 
knows  when  ! — for  he  said  that  if  we  didn't  hear  from 
him  for  six  months  we  were  not  to  be  gallied  at  all.' 

At  this  intelligence,  so  much  worse  than  she  had 
expected.  Lady  Constantine  stood  mute,  sank  down, 
and  would  have  fallen  to  the  floor  if  there  had  not 
been  a  chair  behind  her.  Controlling  herself  by  a 
strenuous  effort,  she  disguised  her  despair  and  asked 
vacantly :  '  From  America  to  the  South  Pacific — 
Transit  of  Venus  ? '  (Swithin's  arrangement  to  ac- 
company the  expedition  had  been  made  at  the  last 
moment,  and  therefore  she  had  not  as  yet  been 
informed.) 

'  Yes,  to  a  lone  island,  I  believe.' 

'  Yes,  a  lone  islant,  my  lady ! '  echoed  Hannah, 
who  had  crept  in  and  made  herself  one  of  the  family 
again,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Martin. 

'  He  is  going  to  meet  the  English  and  American 
astronomers  there  at  the  end  of  the  year.  After  that 
he  will  most  likely  go  on  to  the  Cape.' 

'  But  before  the  end  of  the  year — what  places  did 
he  tell  you  of  visiting  ?  ' 

278 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


*  Let  me  collect  myself ;  he  is  going  to  the  obser- 
vatory of  Cambridge,  United  States,  to  meet  some 
gentlemen  there,  and  spy  through  the  great  refractor. 
Then  there's  the  observatory  of  Chicago ;  and  I  think 
he  has  a  letter  to  make  him  beknown  to  a  gentleman 
in  the  observatory  at  Marseilles — and  he  wants  to  go 
to  Vienna — and  Poulkowa,  too,  he  means  to  take  in 
his  way — there  being  great  instruments  and  a  lot  of 
astronomers  at  each  place.' 

*  Does  he  take  Europe  or  America  first  ? '  she 
asked  faintly,  for  the  account  seemed  hopeless. 

Mrs.  Martin  could  not  tell  till  she  had  heard  from 
Swithin.  It  depended  upon  what  he  had  decided  to 
do  on  the  day  of  his  leaving  England. 

Lady  Constantine  bade  the  old  people  good-bye, 
and  dragged  her  weary  limbs  homeward.  The  fatu- 
ousness of  forethouorht  had  seldom  been  evinced  more 
ironically.  Had  she  done  nothing  to  hinder  him,  he 
would  have  kept  up  an  unreserved  communication 
with  her,  and  all  might  have  been  well. 

For  that  night  she  could  undertake  nothing  further, 
and  she  waited  for  the  next  day.     Then  at  once  she 
wrote  two  letters   to  Swithin,   directing  one  to   Mar- 
seilles observatory,  one  to   the   observatory  of  Cam- 
bridge, U.S.,  as  being  the  only  two  spots  on  the  face 
I-  iof  the  globe  at   which   they  were  likely  to  intercept 
i:  him.     Each  letter  stated  to  him   the   urgent  reasons 
k  which  existed  for  his  return,  and  contained  a  passion- 
ed ately  regretful   intimation   that  the  annuity  on  which 
his  hopes  depended  must  of  necessity  be  sacrificed  by 
the  completion  of  their  original  contract  without  delay. 
i         But  letter  conveyance  was  too  slow  a  process  to 
:i  batisfy  her.     To  send  an  epitome  of  her  episdes  by 
'telegraph  was,  after  all,  indispensable.     Such  an  im- 
:  iploring   sentence   as  she  desired  to  address    to    him 
:;  it  would   be  hazardous   to   despatch   from  Warborne, 
and  she  took  a  dreary  journey  to  a  strange  town  on 
(^  purpose  to  send  it  from  an  office  at  which  she  was 
unknown. 

279 


le 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

There  she  handed  in  her  message,  addressing  It  to 
the  port  of  arrival  of  the  Occidental,  and  again  returned 
home. 

She  waited  ;  and  there  being  no  return  telegram, 
the  inference  was  that  he  had  somehow  missed  hers. 
For  an  answer  to  either  of  her  letters  she  would  have 
to  wait  long  enough  to  allow  him  time  to  reach  one  of 
the  observatories — a  tedious  while. 

Then  she  considered  the  weakness,  the  stultifying, 
nature  of  her  attempt  at  recall. 

Events  mocked  her  on  all  sides.  By  the  favour  oi 
an  accident,  and  by  her  own  immense  exertions  against; 
her  instincts,  Swithin  had  been  restored  to  the  rightful 
heritage  that  he  had  nearly  forfeited  on  her  account 
He  had  just  started  off  to  utilize  it ;  when  she,  without 
a  moment's  warning,  was  asking  him  again  to  cast  il 
away.  She  had  set  a  certain  machinery  in  motion — 
to  stop  it  before  it  had  revolved  once. 

A  horrid  apprehension  possessed  her.  It  had  beer 
easy  for  Swithin  to  give  up  what  he  had  never  knowr 
the  advantages  of  keeping ;  but  having  once  begun  tc 
enjoy  his  possession  would  he  give  it  up  now  ?  Coulc 
he  be  depended  on  for  such  self-sacrifice  ?  Befon 
leaving,  he  would  have  done  anything  at  her  request 
but  the  mo  Ilia  temporafandi  had  now  passed.  Suppos 
there  arrived  no  reply  from  him  for  the  next  thre 
months  ;  and  that  when  his  answer  came  he  were  trJ 
inform  her  that,  having  now  fully  acquiesced  in  he 
original  decision,  he  found  the  life  he  was  leadini 
so  profitable  as  to  be  unable  to  abandon  it,  even  t 
please  her ;  that  he  was  very  sorry,  but  havin, 
embarked  on  this  course  by  her  advice  he  meant  t 
adhere  to  it  by  his  own. 

There  was,  indeed,  every  probability  that,  movin 
about  as  he  was  doing,  and  cautioned  as  he  had  bee 
by  her  very  self  against  listening  to  her  too  readiljl 
she  would  receive  no  reply  of  any  sort  from  hii 
for  three  or  perhaps  four  months.  This  would  be  o 
the  eve  of  the  Transit ;  and  what  likelihood  was  ther 

280 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

that  a  young  man,  full  of  ardour  for  that  spectacle, 
would  forego  it  at  the  last  moment  to  return  to  a  hum- 
drum domesticity  with  a  woman  who  was  no  longer  a 
novelty  ? 

If  she  could  only  leave  him  to  his  career,  and  save 
her  own  situation  also !  But  at  that  moment  the  pro- 
position seemed  as  impossible  as  to  construct  a  triangle 
of  two  straight  lines.  O  that  last  fatal  evening  with 
him ! 

In  her  walk  home,   pervaded   by    these   hopeless 
views,  she  passed  near  the  dark  and  deserted  tower. 
^ Night  in  that  solitary  place,  which  would  have  caused 
^  ber  some  uneasiness  in  her  years  of  blitheness,   had 
no  terrors  for  her  now.     She  went  up   the  winding- 
path,  and,  the  door  being  unlocked,  felt  her  way  to 
the  top.     The  open  sky  greeted  her  as  in  times  pre- 
vious to   the   dome-and-equatorial  period ;    but  there 
was  not  a  star  to  suggest  to  her  in  which  direction 
Swithin  had  gone.     The  absence  of  the  dome  suggested 
way  out  of  her  difficulties.     A  leap  in  the  dark,  and 
^*all    would    be  over.      But  she  had   not  reached   that 
stage  of  action  as  yet,  and  the  thought  was  dismissed 
as  quickly  as  it  had  come. 

The  new  consideration  which  at  present  occupied 
her  mind  was  whether  she  could  have  the  courage  to 
leave  Swithin  to  himself,  as  in  the  original  plan,  and 
singly  meet  her  impending  trial,  despising  the  shame, 
till  he  should  return  at  five-and-twenty  and  claim  her  ? 
Yet  was  this  assumption  of  his  return  so  very  safe? 
How  altered  things  would  be  at  that  time!  At 
twenty-five  he  would  still  be  young  and  handsome ; 
she  would  be  five-and-thirty,  fading  to  middle-age  and 
[lomeliness,  from  a  junior's  point  of  view.  A  fear  sharp 
IS  a  frost  settled  down  upon  her,  that  in  any  such 
scheme  as  this  she  would  be  building  upon  the  sand. 

She  hardly  knew  how  she  reached  home  that  night. 
Entering  by  the  lawn  door  she  saw  a  red  coal  in  the 
direction  of  the  arbour.  Louis  was  smoking  there,  and 
le  came  forward. 

281 


!"|a: 

ef|L 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

He  had  not  seen  her  since  the  morning  and  was 
naturally  anxious  about  her.  She  blessed  the  chance 
which  enveloped  her  in  night  and  lessened  the  weight 
of  the  encounter  one  half  by  depriving  him  of  vision. 

*  Did  you  accomplish  your  object  ? '  he  asked. 

*  No,'  said  she. 

*  How  was  that?* 

*  He  has  sailed.* 

*  A  very  good  thing  for  both,  I  say.  I  believe  you 
would  have  married  him,  if  you  could  have  overtaken 
him.' 

*  That  would  I ! '  she  said. 

*  Good  God ! ' 

*  I  would  marry  a  tinker  for  that  matter ;  I  have 
physical  reasons  for  being  any  man's  wife,'  she  said 
recklessly,  '  only  I  should  prefer  to  drown  myself ! ' 

Louis  held  his  breath,  and  stood  rigid  at  the  mean- 
ing her  words  conveyed. 

*  But  Louis,  you  don't  know  all ! '  cried  Viviette. 
*  I  am  not  so  bad  as  you  think  ;  mine  has  been  folly — 
not  vice.  I  thought  I  had  married  him — and  then  I 
found  I  had  not ;  the  marriage  was  invalid — Sir  Blount 
was  alive !  And  now  S within  has  gone  away,  and  will 
not  come  back  for  my  calling !  How  can  he  ?  His 
fortune  is  left  him  on  condition  that  he  forms  no  legal 
tie.     O  will  he — will  he,  come  again  ? ' 

*  Never,  if  that's  the  position  of  affairs,'  said  Louia 
firmly,  after  a  pause. 

*  What  then  shall  I  do  ? '  said  Viviette. 
Louis  escaped  the  formidable  difficulty  of  replying! 

by  pretending  to  continue  his   Havannah ;  and  she, 
bowed  down  to  dust  by  what  she  had  revealed,  crept 
from  him  into  the  house.     Louis's  cigar  went  out  iii;^ 
his  hand  as  he  stood  looking  intently  at  the  ground. 


I' 


XXXIX 


]^ 


^ouis  got  up  the  next  morning  with  an  idea  In  his 
ead.  He  had  dressed  for  a  journey,  and  breakfasted 
astily. 

Before  he  had  started  Viviette  came   downstairs, 
ouis,  who  was  now  greatly  disturbed  about  her,  went 
p  to  his  sister  and  took  her  hand. 

'  Aux  grayids  maicx  les  grands  remedes^  he  said 
ravely.      '  I  have  a  plan.' 

'  I  have  a  dozen  ! '  said  she. 

'  You  have  ? ' 

*  Yes.  But  what  are  they  worth  ?  And  yet  there 
lust — there  must  be  a  way  ! ' 

'Viviette,'    said     Louis,    *  promise    that    you    will 
rait  till   I   come  home  to-night,   before  you  do  any- 
1^   ling.' 

Her  distracted  eyes  showed  slight  comprehension 
if  his  request  as  she  said  '  Yes.' 

An  hour  after  that  time  Louis  entered  the  train  at 
Varborne,  and  was  speedily  crossing  a  country  of 
agged  woodland,  which,  though  intruded  on  by  the 
ilough  at  places,  remained  largely  intact  from  prehis- 
cfi  oric  times,  and  still  abounded  with  yews  of  gigantic 
owth  and  oaks  tufted  with  mistletoe.  It  was  the 
oute  to  Melchester. 

On  setting  foot  in  that  city  he  took  the  cathedral 
pire  as  his  guide,  the  place  being  strange  to  him  ; 
nd  went  on  till  he  reached  the  archway  dividing 
Melchester  sacred  from  Melchester  secular.  Thence 
e  threaded  his  course  into  the  precincts  of  the  damp 

283 


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TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  venerable  Close,  level  as  a  bowling-green,  and 
beloved  of  rooks,  who  from  their  elm  perches  on  high 
threatened  any  unwary  gazer  with  the  mishap  of  Tobit. 
At  the  corner  of  this  reposeful  spot  stood  the  episcopal 
palace. 

Louis  entered  the  gates,  rang  the  bell,  and  looked 
around.  Here  the  trees  and  rooks  seemed  olddr, 
if  possible,  than  those  in  the  Close  behind  him. 
Everything  was  dignified,  and  he  felt  himself  like 
Punchinello  in  the  king's  chambers.  Verily  in  the 
present  case  Glanville  was  not  a  man  to  stick  at  trifles 
any  more  than  his  illustrious  prototype  ;  and  on  the 
servant  bringing  a  message  that  his  lordship  would  see 
him  at  once,  Louis  marched  boldly  in. 

Through  an  old  dark  corridor,  roofed  with  old  dark 
beams,  the  servant  led  the  way  to  the  heavily-moulded 
door  of  the  Bishop's  room.  Dr.  Helmsdale  was  there, 
and  welcomed  Louis  with  considerable  stateliness. 
But  his  condescension  was  tempered  with  a  curious 
anxiety,  and  even  with  nervousness. 

He  asked  in  pointed  tones  after  the  health  of  Lady 
Constantine  ;  if  Louis  had  brought  an  answer  to  the 
letter  he  had  addressed  to  her  a  day  or  two  earlier ; 
and  if  the  contents  of  the  letter,  or  of  the  previous  one, 
were  known  to  him. 

*  I  have  brought  no  answer  from  her,'  said  Louis. 
*  But  the  contents  of  your  letter  have  been  made  known  ' 
to  me.' 

Since  entering  the  building  Louis  had  more  than 
once  felt  some  hesitation,  and  it  might  now,  with  a 
favouring  manner  from  his  entertainer,  have  operated 
to  deter  him  from  going  further  with  his  intention. 
But  the  Bishop  had  personal  weaknesses  that  were 
fatal  to  sympathy  for  more  than  a  moment. 

'  Then  I  may  speak  in  confidence  to  you  as  her 
nearest  relative,'  said  the  prelate,  '  and  explain  that  I 
am  now  in  a  position  with  regard  to  Lady  Constantine 
which,  in  view  of  the  important  office  I  hold,  I  should 
not  have  cared  to  place  myself  in  unless   I   had  felt 

284 


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TWO  ON  A  TOWER 


pite  sure  of  not  being  refused  by  her.  And  hence 
t  is  a  great  grief,  and  some  mortification  to  me,  that 
{  was  refused — owing,  of  course,  to  the  fact  that  I 
janwittingly  risked  making  my  proposal  at  the  very 
lnoment  when  she  was  under  the  influence  of  those 
|5trange  tidings,  and  therefore  not  herself,  and  scarcely 
lible  to  judge  what  was  best  for  her.' 

The  Bishop's  words  disclosed  a  mind  whose 
jsensitive  fear  of  danger  to  its  own  dignity  hindered  it 
jfrom  criticism  elsewhere.  Things  might  have  been 
worse  for  Louis's  Puck-like  idea  of  mis-matine  his 
iHermia  with  this  Demetrius. 

Throwing  a  strong  colour  of  earnestness  into  his 
mien  he  replied  :  *  Bishop,  Viviette  is  my  only  sister ; 
I  am  her  only  brother  and  friend.  I  am  alarmed  for 
her  health  and  state  of  mind.  Hence  I  have  come  to 
fleif  consult  you  on  this  very  matter  that  you  have  broached. 
I  come  absolutely  without  her  knowledge,  and  I  hope 
unconventionality  may  be  excused  in  me  on  the  score 
of  my  anxiety  for  her.' 

*  Certainly.  I  trust  that  the  prospect  opened  up 
by  my  proposal,  combined  with  this  other  news,  has 
not  proved  too  much  for  her  ?  ' 

*  My  sister  is  distracted  and  distressed,  Bishop 
Helmsdale.     She  wants  comfort.' 

*  Not  distressed  by  my  letter  ?  *  said  the  Bishop, 
turning  red.     *  Has  it  lowered  me  in  her  estimation  ? ' 

*  On  the  contrary ;  while  your  disinterested  offer 
was  uppermost  in  her  mind  she  was  a  different  woman. 
It  is  this  other  matter  that  oppresses  her.  The  result 
upon  her  of  the  recent  discovery  with  regard  to  the 
late  Sir  Blount  Constantine  is  peculiar.  To  say  that 
he  ill-used  her  in  his  lifetime  is  to  understate  a  truth. 
^e  has  been  dead  now  a  considerable  period ;  but 
this  revival  of  his  memory  operates  as  a  sort  of  terror 
upon  her.  Images  of  the  manner  of  Sir  Blount's 
death  are  with  her  night  and  day,  intensified  by  a 
hideous  picture  of  the  supposed  scene,  which  was 
cruelly  sent  her.     She  dreads  being  alone.     Nothing 

285 


lines 
jnoi 


,oti 
irlie 

iOS 


itl 


we 


IV 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

will  restore  my  poor  Viviette  to  her  former  cheerful- 
ness but  a  distraction — a  hope — a  new  prospect.' 

'  That  is  precisely  what  acceptance  of  my  offer 
would  afford.' 

*  Precisely,'  said  Louis,  with  great  respect.  'But 
how  to  get  her  to  avail  herself  of  it,  after  once  refusing 
you,  is  the  difficulty,  and  my  earnest  problem.' 

*Then  we  are  quite  at  one.' 

*  We  are.  And  it  is  to  promote  our  wishes  that  I 
am  come  ;  since  she  will  do  nothing  of  herself 

*  Then  you  can  give  me  no  hope  of  a  reply  to  my 
second  communication  ? ' 

*  None  whatever — by  letter,'  said  Louis.  '  Her 
impression  plainly  is  that  she  cannot  encourage  your 
lordship.  Yet,  in  the  face  of  all  this  reticence,  the 
secret  is  that  she  loves  you  warmly.' 

'Can  you  indeed  assure  me  of  that?  Indeed,  < 
indeed ! '  said  the  good  Bishop  musingly.  *  Then  I 
must  try  to  see  her,  I  begin  to  feel — to  feel  strongly 
— that  a  course  which  would  seem  premature  and 
unbecoming  in  other  cases  would  be  true  and  proper 
conduct  in  this.  Her  unhappy  dilemmas — her  un- 
wonted position — yes,  yes — I  see  it  all !  I  can  afford 
to  have  some  little  misconstruction  put  upon  my 
motives.  I  will  go  and  see  her  im^mediately.  Her 
past  has  been  a  cruel  one  ;  she  wants  sympathy  ;  and 
with  Heaven's  help  I'll  give  it.' 

'  I  think  the  remedy  lies  that  way,'  said  Louis 
gently,  '  Some  words  came  from  her  one  night  which 
seemed  to  show  it.  I  was  standing  on  the  terrace : 
I  heard  somebody  sigh  in  the  dark,  and  found  that  it 
was  she.  I  asked  her  what  was  the  matter,  and  gently 
pressed  her  on  this  subject  of  boldly  and  promptly  \, 
contracting  a  new  marriage  as  a  means  of  dispersing 
the  horrors  of  the  old.  Her  answer  implied  that  she 
would  have  no  objection  to  do  it,  and  to  do  it  at  once,  jj 
provided  she  could  remain  externally  passive  in  the 
matter,  that  she  would  tacitly  yield,  in  fact,  to  pressure, 
but   would    not    meet   solicitation   half-way.       Now, 

286 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Bishop  Helmsdale,  you  see  what  has  prompted  me. 
On  the  one  hand  is  a  dignitary  of  high  position  and 
integrity,  to  say  no  more,  who  is  anxious  to  save  her 
from  the  gloom  of  her  situation  ;  on  the  other  is  this 
sister,  who  will  not  make  known  to  you  her  willingness 
to  be  saved — partly  from  apathy,  partly  from  a  fear 
that  she  may  be  thought  forward  in  responding 
favourably  at  so  early  a  moment,  partly  also,  perhaps, 
from  a  modest  sense  that  there  would  be  some  sacrifice 
on  your  part  in  allying  yourself  with  a  woman  of  her 
secluded  and  sad  experience.' 

*  O,  there  is  no  sacrifice  !  Quite  otherwise.  I  care 
greatly  for  this  alliance,  Mr.  Glanville.  Your  sister  is 
very  dear  to  me.  Moreover,  the  advantages  her  mind 
would  derive  from  the  enlarged  field  of  activity  that  the 
position  of  a  bishop's  wife  w^ould  afford,  are  palpable. 
I  am  induced  to  think  that  an  early  settlement  of 
the  question — an  immediate  coming  to  the  point — 
which  might  be  called  too  early  in  the  majority  of 
cases,  would  be  a  right  and  considerate  tenderness 
here.  My  only  dread  is  that  she  should  think  an 
immediate  following  up  of  the  subject  premature. 
And  the  risk  of  a  rebuff  a  second  time  is  one  which, 
as  you  must  perceive,  it  would  be  highly  unbecoming 
in  me  to  run.' 

'  I  think  the  risk  would  be  small,  if  your  lordship 
would  approach  her  frankly.  Write  she  will  not,  I  am 
assured  ;  and  knowing  that,  and  having  her  interest 
at  heart,  I  was  induced  to  come  to  you  and  make  this 
II  candid  statement  in  reply  to  your  communication. 
If  she  could  be  married  in  a  month  or  so  it  would 
save  her  from  chronic  melancholia — possibly  from 
death  itself.  And  her  late  husband  having  been 
^virtually  dead  these  four  or  five  years,  believed  dead 
two  years,  and  actually  dead  nearly  one,  no  reproach 
could  attach  to  her  if  she  were  to  contract  another 
union  to-morrow.' 

*  I  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Glanville,'  said  the  Bishop 
warmly.     '  I  will  think  this  over.     Her  motive  in  not 

287 


I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

replying  I  can  quite  understand :  your  motive  in 
coming  I  can  also  understand  and  appreciate  in  a 
brother.  If  I  feel  convinced  that  it  would  be  a 
seemly  and  expedient  thing  I  will  come  to  Welland 
to-morrow.' 

The  point  to  which  Louis  had  brought  the  Bishop 
being  so  satisfactory,  he  feared  to  endanger  it  by 
another  word.  He  went  away  almost  hurriedly,  and 
at  once  left  the  precincts  of  the  cathedral,  lest  another 
encounter  with  Dr.  Helmsdale  should  lead  the  latter 
to  take  a  new  and  slower  view  of  his  duties  as 
Viviette's  suitor. 

He  reached  Welland  by  dinner-time,  and  came 
upon  Viviette  in  the  same  pensive  mood  in  which 
he  had  left  her.  It  seemed  she  had  hardly  moved 
since. 

*  Have  you  discovered  Swithin  St.  Cleeve's  address?* 
she  said,  without  looking  up  at  him. 

*  No,'  said  Louis. 

Then  she  broke  out  with  indescribable  anguish : 
*  But  you  asked  me  to  wait  till  this  evening ;  and 
I  have  waited  through  the  long  day,  in  the  belief 
that  your  words  meant  something,  and  that  you 
would  bring  good  tidings !  And  now  I  find  your 
words  meant  nothing,  and  you  have  not  brought  good 
tidings ! ' 

Louis  could  not  decide  for  a  moment  what  to  say 
to  this.  Should  he  venture  to  give  her  thoughts  a 
new  course  by  a  revelation  of  his  design  ?  No  :  it 
would  be  better  to  prolong  her  despair  yet  another 
night,  and  spring  relief  upon  her  suddenly,  that  she 
might  jump  at  it  and  commit  herself  without  an 
interval  for  reflection  on  certain  aspects  of  the 
proceeding. 

Nothing,  accordingly,  did  he  say  ;  and  conjecturing 
that  she  would  be  hardly  likely  to  take  any  desperate 
step  that  night,  he  left  her  to  herself. 

His  anxiety  at  this  crisis  continued  to  be  great. 
Everything  depended  on  the  result  of  the   Bishop's 

288 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

self-communion.  Would  he  or  would  he  not  come  the 
next  day  ?  Perhaps  instead  of  his  important  presence 
there  would  appear  a  letter  postponing  the  visit  in- 
definitely.     If  so,  all  would  be  lost. 

Louis's  suspense  kept  him  awake,  and  he  was  not 
alone  in  his  sleeplessness.  Through  the  night  he 
heard  his  sister  walking  up  and  down,  in  a  state  which 
betokened  that  for  every  pang  of  grief  she  had  dis- 
closed, twice  as  many  had  remained  unspoken.  He 
almost  feared  that  she  might  seek  to  end  her  existence 
by  violence,  so  unreasonably  sudden  were  her  moods  ; 
and  he  lay  and  longed  for  the  day. 

It  was  morning.  She  came  down  the  same  as 
usual,  and  asked  if  there  had  arrived  any  telegram  or 
letter ;  but  there  was  neither.  Louis  avoided  her, 
knowing  that  nothing  he  could  say  just  then  would  do 
her  any  good. 

No  communication  had  reached  him  from  the 
Bishop,  and  that  looked  well.  By  one  ruse  and 
another,  as  the  day  went  on,  he  led  her  away  from 
contemplating  the  remote  possibility  of  hearing  from 
Swithin,  and  induced  her  to  look  at  the  worst  con- 
tingency as  her  probable  fate.  It  seemed  as  i(  she 
really  made  up  her  mind  to  this,  for  by  the  afternoon 
she  was  apathetic,  like  a  woman  who  neither  hoped 
nor  feared. 

And  then  a  fly  drove  up  to  the  door. 

Louis,  who  had  been  standing  in  the  hall  the 
greater  part  of  that  day,  glanced  out  through  a  private 
window,  and  went  to  Viviette.  '  The  Bishop  has 
called,'  he  said.      '  Be  ready  to  see  him.' 

'  The  Bishop  of  Melchester  ? '  said  Viviette,  be- 
wildered. 

*Yes.  I  asked  him  to  come.  He  comes  for  an 
answer  to  his  letters.' 

*  An  answer — to — his — letters  ? '  she  murmured. 

'  An  immediate  reply  of  yes  or  no.' 

Her  face  showed  the  workings  of  her  mind.  How 
entirely  an  answer  of  assent,  at  once  acted  on  for  better 

289 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

or  for  worse,  would  clear  the  spectre  from  her  path, 
there  needed  no  tongue  to  tell.  It  would,  moreover, 
accomplish  that  end  without  involving  the  impoverish- 
ment of  Swithin — the  inevitable  result  if  she  had 
adopted  the  legitimate  road  out  of  her  trouble. 
Hitherto  there  had  seemed  to  her  dismayed  mind,  un- 
enlightened as  to  any  course  save  one  of  honesty,  no 
possible  achievement  of  both  her  desires — the  saving 
of  Swithin  and  the  saving  of  herself  But  behold, 
here  was  a  way !  A  tempter  had  shown  it  to  her. 
It  involved  a  great  wrong,  which  to  her  had  quite 
obscured  its  feasibility.  But  she  perceived  now  that 
it  was  indeed  a  way.  Convention  was  forcing  her 
hand  at  this  game  ;  and  to  what  will  not  convention 
compel  her  weaker  victims,  in  extremes  ? 

Louis  left  her  to  think  it  out.  When  he  reached 
the  drawing-room  Dr.  Helmsdale  was  standing  there 
with  the  air  of  a  man  too  good  for  his  destiny — 
which,  to  be  just  to  him,  was  not  far  from  the  truth 
this  time. 

'  Have  you  broken  my  message  to  her.'^'  asked  the 
Bishop. 

'  Not  your  message  ;  your  visit,'  said  Louis.  '  I 
leave  the  rest  in  your  Lordship's  hands.  I  have  done 
all  I  can  for  her.' 

She  was  in  her  own  small  room  to-day  ;  and, 
feeling  that  it  must  be  a  bold  stroke  or  none,  he  led 
the  Bishop  across  the  hall  till  he  reached  her  apartment 
and  opened  the  door ;  but  instead  of  following  he  shut 
it  behind  his  visitor. 

Then  Glanville  passed  an  anxious  time.  He 
walked  from  the  foot  of  the  staircase  to  the  star  of  old 
swords  and  pikes  on  the  wall ;  from  these  to  the  stags' 
horns ;  thence  down  the  corridor  as  far  as  the  door, 
where  he  could  hear  murmuring  inside,  but  not  its 
import.  The  longer  they  remained  closeted  the  more 
excited  did  he  become.  That  she  had  not  peremptorily 
negatived  the  proposal  at  the  outset  was  a  strong  sign 
of  its   success.     It   showed    that    she    had   admitted 

290 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

argument ;  and  the  worthy  Bishop  had  a  pleader  on 
his  side  whom  he  knew  little  of.  The  very  weather 
seemed  to  favour  Dr.  Helmsdale  in  his  suit.  A 
blusterous  wind  had  blown  up  from  the  west,  howling 
in  the  smokeless  chimneys,  and  suggesting  to  the 
feminine  mind  storms  at  sea,  a  tossing  ocean,  and  the 
hopeless  inaccessibility  of  all  astronomers  and  men  on 
the  other  side  of  the  same. 

The  Bishop  had  entered  Viviette's  room  at  ten 
minutes  past  three.  The  long  hand  of  the  hall  clock 
lay  level  at  forty-five  minutes  past  when  the  knob  of 
the  door  moved,  and  he  came  out.  Louis  met  him 
where  the  passage  joined  the  hall. 

Dr.  Helmsdale  was  decidedly  in  an  emotional  state, 
his  face  being  slightly  flushed.  Louis  looked  his 
anxious  inquiry  without  speaking  it. 

*  She  accepts  me,'  said  the  Bishop  in  a  low  voice. 
*  And  the  wedding  is  to  be  soon — the  first  week  in 
September.  Her  long  solitude  and  sufferings  justify 
haste.  What  you  said  was  true.  Sheer  weariness 
and  distraction  have  driven  her  to  me.  She  was  quite 
passive  at  last,  and  agreed  to  anything  I  proposed — 
such  is  the  persuasive  force  of  trained  logical  reasoning  ! 
A  good  and  wise  woman,  she  perceived  what  a  true 
shelter  from  sadness  was  offered  in  this,  and  was  not 
the  one  to  despise  Heaven  s  gift,* 


XL 

The  silence  of  Swlthin  was  to  be  accounted  for  by 
the  fact  that  neither  to  the  Mediterranean  nor  to 
America  had  he  in  the  first  place  directed  his  steps. 
Feeling  himself  absolutely  free  he  had,  on  arriving  at 
Southampton,  decided  to  make  straight  for  the  Cape, 
and  hence  had  not  gone  aboard  the  Occidental  at  all. 
His  object  was  to  leave  his  heavier  luggage  there, 
examine  the  capabilities  of  the  spot  for  his  purpose, 
find  out  the  necessity  or  otherwise  of  shipping  over  his 
own  equatorial,  and  then  cross  to  America  as  soon  as 
there  was  a  good  opportunity.  Here  he  might  inquire 
the  movements  of  the  Transit  expedition  to  the  South 
Pacific,  and  join  it  at  such  a  point  as  might  be  con- 
venient. 

Thus,  though  wrong  in  her  premisses,  Viviette  had 
intuitively  decided  with  sad  precision.  There  was, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  a  great  possibility  of  her  not  being 
able  to  communicate  with  him  for  several  months, 
notwithstanding  that  he  might  possibly  communicate 
with  her. 

This  excursive  time  was  an  awakening  for  Swithin. 
To  altered  circumstances  inevitably  followed  altered 
views.  That  such  changes  should  have  a  marked 
effect  upon  a  young  man  who  had  made  neither  grand 
tour  nor  petty  one — who  had,  in  short,  scarcely  been 
away  from  home  in  his  life — was  nothing  more  than 
natural.  New  ideas  struggled  to  disclose  themselves ; 
and  with  the  addition  of  strange  twinklers  to  his 
southern  horizon  came  an  absorbed  attention  that  way, 

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TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

and  a  corresponding  forgetfulness  of  what  lay  to  the 
north  behind  his  back,  whether  human  or  celestial. 
Whoever  may  deplore  it  few  will  wonder  that  Viviette, 
who  till  then  had  stood  high  in  his  heaven,  if  she  had 
not  dominated  it,  sank,  like  the  North  Star,  lower  and 
lower  with  his  retreat  southward.  Master  of  a  larcre 
advance  of  his  first  year's  income  in  circular  notes,  he 
perhaps  too  readily  forgot  that  the  mere  act  of  honour, 
but  for  her  self-suppression,  would  have  rendered  him 
penniless. 

Meanwhile,  to  come  back  and  claim  her  at  the 
specified  time,  four  years  thence,  if  she  should  not 
object  to  be  claimed,  was  as  much  a  part  of  his  pro- 
gramme as  were  the  exploits  abroad  and  elsewhere  that 
were  to  prelude  it.  The  very  thoroughness  of  his 
intention  for  that  advanced  date  inclined  him  all  the 
more  readily  to  shelve  the  subject  now.  Her  unhappy 
caution  to  him  not  to  write  too  soon  was  a  comfortable 
license  in  his  present  state  of  tension  about  sublime 
scientific  things,  which  knew  not  woman,  nor  her 
sacrifices,  nor  her  fears.  In  truth  he  was  not  only 
too  young  in  years,  but  too  literal,  direct,  and  uncom- 
promising in  nature  to  understand  such  a  woman  as 
Lady  Constantine  ;  and  she  suffered  for  that  limitation 
in  him  as  it  had  been  antecedently  probable  that  she 
would  do. 

He  stayed  but  a  little  time  at  Cape  Town  on  this 
his  first  reconnoitring  journey ;  and  on  that  account 
wrote  to  no  one  from  the  place.  On  leaving  he 
found  there  remained  some  weeks  on  his  hands  before 
he  wished  to  cross  to  America  ;  and  feeling  an  irre- 
pressible desire  for  further  studies  in  navigation  on 
i^  shipboard,  and  under  clear  skies,  he  took  the  steamer 
for  Melbourne ;  returning  thence  in  due  time,  and 
pursuing  his  journey  to  America,  where  he  landed  at 
Boston. 

Having  at  last  had  enough  of  great  circles  and 
other  nautical  reckonings,  and  taking  no  interest  in 
men    or   cities,    this    indefatigable    scrutineer   of  the 

293 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

universe  went  immediately  on  to  Cambridge,  U.S.,  and 
there,  by  the  help  of  an  introduction  he  had  brought 
from  England,  he  revelled  for  a  time  in  the  glories  of 
the  gigantic  refractor  (which  he  was  permitted  to  use 
on  occasion),  and  in  the  pleasures  of  intercourse  with 
the  scientific  group  around.  This  brought  him  on  to 
the  time  of  starting  with  the  Transit  expedition,  when 
he  and  his  kind  became  lost  to  the  eye  of  civilization 
behind  the  horizon  of  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

To  speak  of  their  doings  on  this  pilgrimage,  of 
ingress  and  egress,  of  tangent  and  parallax,  of  external 
and  internal  contact,  would  avail  nothing.  Is  it  not  all 
written  in  the  chronicles  of  the  Astronomical  Society  ? 
More  to  the  point  will  it  be  to  mention  that  Viviette  s 
letter  to  Cambridge  had  been  returned  long  before 
he  reached  that  place,  while  her  missive  to  Marseilles 
was,  of  course,  misdirected  altogether.  On  arriving  in 
America,  uncertain  of  an  address  in  that  country  at 
which  he  would  stay  long,  Swithin  wrote  his  first  letter 
to  his  grandmother ;  and  in  this  he  ordered  that  all 
communications  should  be  sent  to  await  him  at  Cape 
Town,  as  the  only  safe  spot  for  finding  him,  sooner  or 
later.  The  equatorial  he  also  directed  to  be  forwarded 
to  the  same  place.  At  this  time,  too,  he  ventured  to 
break  Viviette's  commands,  and  address  a  letter  to  her, 
not  knowing  of  the  strange  results  that  had  followed 
his  absence  from  home 

It  was  February.  The  Transit  was  over,  the 
scientific  company  had  broken  up,  and  Swithin  had 
steamed  towards  the  Cape  to  take  up  his  permanent 
abode  there,  with  a  view  to  his  great  task  of  surveying, 
charting  and  theorizing  on  those  exceptional  features 
in  the  southern  skies  which  had  been  but  partially 
treated  by  the  younger  Herschel.  Having  entered 
Table  Bay  and  landed  on  the  quay,  he  called  at  once 
at  the  post-office. 

Two  letters  were  handed  him,  and  he  found  from 
the  date  that  they  had  been  waiting  there  for  some 
time.     One  of  these  epistles,  which  had  a  weather-worn 

294 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

look  as  regarded  the  ink,  and  was  in  old-fashioned  pen- 
manship, he  knew  to  be  from  his  grandmother.  He 
opened  it  before  he  had  as  much  as  glanced  at  the 
superscription  of  the  second. 

Besides  immaterial  portions,  it  contained  the 
following : — 

J  reckon  you  know  by  now  of  our  main  news  this  fall,  but 
lest  you  should  not  have  heard  of  it  J  send  the  exact  thing 
snipped  out  of  the  newspaper.  Nobody  expected  her  to  do  it 
quite  so  soon  ;  but  it  is  said  hereabout  that  my  lord  bishop 
and  my  lady  had  been  drawing  nigh  to  an  understanding 
before  the  glum  tidings  of  Sir  Blount's  taking  of  his  own  life 
reached  her  ;  and  the  account  of  this  wicked  deed  was  so  sore 
afflicting  to  her  mind,  and  made  her  poor  heart  so  timid  and 
low,  that  in  charity  to  my  lady  her  few  friends  agreed  on 
urging  her  to  let  the  bishop  go  on  paying  his  court  as  before, 
notwithstanding  she  had  not  been  a  widow-woman  near  so 
long  as  was  thought.  This,  as  it  turned  out,  she  was  willing 
to  do ;  and  when  my  lord  asked  her  she  told  him  she  would 
marry  him  at  once  or  never.  That's  as  J  was  told,  and  J  had 
it  from  those  that  know. 

The  cutting  from  the  newspaper  was  an  ordinary- 
announcement  of  marriage  between  the  Bishop  of 
Melchester  and  Lady  Constantine. 

Swithin  was  so  astounded  at  the  intelligence  of 
what  for  the  nonce  seemed  Viviette's  wanton  fickleness 
that  he  quite  omitted  to  look  at  the  second  letter ;  and 
remembered  nothing  about  it  till  an  hour  afterwards, 
when  sitting  in  his  own  room  at  the  hotel. 

It  was  in  her  handwriting,  but  so  altered  that  its 
superscription  had  not  arrested  his  eye.  It  had  no 
beginning,  or  date  ;  but  its  contents  soon  acquainted 
him  with  her  motive  for  the  precipitate  act.  The  few 
concluding  sentences  are  all  that  it  will  be  necessary 
to  quote  here  : — 

There  was  no  way  out  of  it,  even  if  I  could  have  found 
you,  without  infringing  one  of  the  conditions  I  had  previously 
laid  down.  The  long  desire  of  my  heart  has  been  not  to 
impoverish  you  or  mar  your  career.  The  new  desire  was  to 
save  myself  and,  still  more,  another  yet  unborn.  ...  I  have 

295 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

done  a  desperate  thing.  Yet  for  myself  I  could  do  no  better, 
and  for  you  no  less.  I  would  have  sacrificed  my  single  self 
to  honesty,  but  I  was  not  alone  concerned.  What  woman 
has  a  right  to  blight  a  coming  life  to  preserve  her  personal 
integrity  ?  .  .  .  The  one  bright  spot  is  that  it  saves  you  and 
your  endowment  from  further  catastrophes,  and  preserves  you 
to  the  pleasant  paths  of  scientific  fame.  I  no  longer  lie  like 
a  log  across  your  path,  which  is  now  as  open  as  on  the  day 
before  you  saw  me,  and  ere  I  encouraged  you  to  win  me. 
Alas,  Swithin,  1  ought  to  have  known  better.  The  folly  was 
great,  and  the  suffering  be  upon  my  head  !  I  ought  not  to 
have  consented  to  that  last  interview :  all  was  well  till  then  ! 
.  .  .  Well,  I  have  borne  much,  and  am  not  unprepared.  As 
for  you,  Swithin,  by  simply  pressing  straight  on  your  triumph 
is  assured.  Do  not  communicate  with  me  in  any  way— not 
even  in  answer  to  this.  Do  not  think  of  me.  Do  not  see  me 
ever  any  more. — Your  unhappy  ViVlETTE. 

Swithin's  heart  swelled  within  him  in  sudden  pity 
for  her,  first ;  then  he  blanched  with  a  horrified  sense 
of  what  she  had  done,  and  at  his  own  relation  to  the 
deed.  He  felt  like  an  awakened  somnambulist  who 
should  find  that  he  had  been  accessory  to  a  tragedy  j 
during  his  unconsciousness.  She  had  loosened  the 
knot  of  her  difficulties  by  cutting  it  unscrupulously 
through  and  through. 

The  big  tidings  rather  dazed  than  crushed  him,  his 
predominant  feeling  being  soon  again  one  of  keenest 
sorrow  and  sympathy.  Yet  one  thing  was  obvious ; 
he  could  do  nothing — absolutely  nothing.  The  event 
which  he  now  heard  of  for  the  first  time  had  taken 
place  five  long  months  ago.  He  reflected,  and  re- 
gretted— and  mechanically  went  on  with  his  prepara- 
tions for  settling  down  to  work  under  the  shadow  of 
Table  Mountain.  He  was  as  one  who  suddenly  finds 
the  world  a  stranger  place  than  he  thought ;  but  is 
excluded  by  age,  temperament,  and  situation  from 
being  much  more  than  an  astonished  spectator  of  its 
strangeness. 

The  Royal  Observatory  was  about  a  mile  out  of 
the  town,  and  hither  he  repaired  as  soon  as  he  had 

296 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

established  himself  in  lodgings.  He  had  decided,  on 
his  first  visit  to  the  Cape,  that  it  would  be  highly  ad- 
vantageous to  him  if  he  could  supplement  the  occa- 
sional use  of  the  large  instruments  here  by  the  use  at 
his  own  house  of  his  own  equatorial,  and  had  accord- 
ingly given  directions  that  it  might  be  sent  over  from 
England.  The  precious  possession  now  arrived  ;  and 
although  the  sight  of  it — of  the  brasses  on  which  her 
hand  had  often  rested,  of  the  eyepiece  through  which 
her  dark  eyes  had  beamed — engendered  some  de- 
cidedly bitter  regrets  in  him  for  a  time,  he  could  not 
long  afford  to  give  to  the  past  the  days  that  were 
meant  for  the  future. 

Unable  to  get  a  room  convenient  for  a  private 
observatory  he  resolved  at  last  to  fix  the  instrument 
on  a  solid  pillar  in  the  garden  ;  and  several  days  were 
spent  in  accommodating  it  to  its  new  position.  In 
this  latitude  there  was  no  necessity  for  economizing 
clear  nights  as  he  had  been  obliged  to  do  on  the  old 
tower  at  Welland.  There  it  had  happened  more  than 
once  that,  after  waiting  idle  through  days  and  nights 
of  cloudy  weather,  Viviette  would  fix  her  time  for 
meeting  him  at  an  hour  when  at  last  he  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  the  sky  ;  so  that  in  giving  to  her  the 
golden  moments  of  cloudlessness  he  was  losing  his 
chance  with  the  orbs  above. 

Those  features  which  usually  attract  the  eye  of  the 
visitor  to  a  new  latitude  are  the  novel  forms  of  human 
and  vegetable  life,  and  other  such  sublunary  things. 
But  the  young  man  glanced  slightingly  at  these  ;  the 
changes  overhead  had  all  his  attention.  The  old 
subject  was  imprinted  there,  but  in  a  new  type.  Here 
]l  was  a  heaven,  fixed  and  ancient  as  the  northern  ;  yet 
much  of  it  had  never  appeared  above  the  Welland  hills 
since  they  were  heaved  up  from  beneath.  Here  was  an 
unalterable  circumpolar  region  ;  but  the  polar  patterns 
stereotyped  in  history  and  legend — without  which  it  had 
almost  seemed  that  a  polar  sky  could  not  exist — had 
never  been  seen  therein. 

297 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

St.  Cleeve,  as  was  natural,  began  by  cursory  sur- 
veys, which  were  not  likely  to  be  of  much  utility  to 
the  world  or  to  himself.  He  wasted  several  weeks — 
indeed  above  two  months — in  a  comparatively  idle 
survey  of  southern  novelties  ;  in  the  mere  luxury  of 
looking  at  stellar  objects  whose  wonders  were  known, 
recounted,  and  classified,  long  before  his  own  person- 
ality had  been  heard  of.  With  a  child's  simple  delight 
he  allowed  his  instrument  to  rove,  evening  after  even- 
ing, from  the  gorgeous  glitter  of  Canopus  to  the  hazy 
clouds  of  Magellan.  Before  he  had  well  finished  this 
optical  prelude  there  floated  over  to  him  from  the 
other  side  of  the  Equator  the  postscript  to  the  epistle 
of  his  lost  Viviette.  It  came  in  the  vehicle  of  a 
common  newspaper,  under  the  head  of  *  Births ' : — 

April  loth,   1 8 — ,  at  the  Palace,  Melchester,  the  wife  of 
the  Bishop  of  Melchester,  of  a  son. 


XLI 

Three  years  passed  away,  and  Swlthin  still  i;cnialned 
at  the  Cape,  quietly  pursuing  the  work  that  had  brought 
him  there.  His  memoranda  of  observations  had  ac- 
cumulated to  a  wheelbarrow  load,  and  he  was  beginning 
to  shape  them  into  a  treatise  which  should  possess 
some  scientific  utility. 

He  had  gauged  the  southern  skies  with  greater 
results  than  even  he  himself  had  anticipated.  Those 
unfamiliar  constellations  which,  to  the  casual  beholder, 
are  at  most  a  new  arrangement  of  ordinary  points  of 
light  were,  to  this  professed  astronomer  as  to  his 
brethren,  a  far  greater  matter. 

It  was  below  the  surface  that  his  material  lay. 
There,  in  regions  revealed  only  to  the  instrumental 
observer,  were  suns  of  hybrid  kind — fire -fogs,  floating 
nuclei,  globes  that  flew  in  groups  like  swarms  of 
bees,  and  other  extraordinary  sights — which,  when 
decomposed  by  Swithin's  equatorial,  turned  out  to 
be  the  beginning  of  a  new  series  of  phenomena  instead 
of  the  end  of  an  old  one. 

There  were  gloomy  deserts  in  those  southern  skies 
such  as  the  north  shows  scarcely  an  example  of;  sites 
set  apart  for  the  position  of  suns  which  for  some 
unfathomable  reason  were  left  uncreated,  their  places 
remaining  ever  since  conspicuous  by  their  emptiness. 

The  inspection  of  these  chasms  brought  him  a 
second  pulsation  of  that  old  horror  which  he  had  used 
to  describe  to  Viviette  as  produced  in  him  by  bottom- 
lessness  in  the  north  heaven.     The  ghostly  finger  of 

299 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

limitless  vacancy  touched  him  now  on  the  other  side. 
Infinite  deeps  in  the  north  stellar  region  had  a  homely 
familiarity  about  them,  when  compared  with  infinite 
deeps  in  the  region  of  the  south  pole.  This  was  an 
even  more  unknown  tract  of  the  unknown.  Space 
here,  being  less  the  historic  haunt  of  human  thought 
than  overhead  at  home,  seemed  to  be  pervaded  with 
a  more  lonely  loneliness. 

Were  there  given  on  paper  to  these  astronomical 
exercitations  of  St.  Cleeve  a  space  proportionable  to 
that  occupied  by  his  year  with  Viviette  at  Welland, 
this  narrative  would  treble  its  length  ;  but  not  a  single 
additional  glimpse  would  be  afforded  of  Swithin  in 
his  relations  with  old  emotions.  In  these  experiments 
with  tubes  and  glasses,  important  as  they  were  to 
human  intellect,  there  was  little  food  for  the  sym- 
pathetic instincts  which  create  the  changes  in  a  life. 
That  which  is  the  foreground  and  measuring  base  of 
one  perspective  draught  may  be  the  vanishing-point 
of  another  perspective  draught,  while  yet  they  are 
both  draughts  of  the  same  thing.  Swithin's  doings 
and  discoveries  in  the  southern  sidereal  system  were, 
no  doubt,  incidents  of  the  highest  importance  to  him  ; 
and  yet  from  an  intersocial  point  of  view  they  served 
but  the  humble  purpose  of  killing  time,  while  other 
doings,  more  nearly  allied  to  his  heart  than  to  his 
understanding,  developed  themselves  at  home. 

In  the  intervals  between  his  professional  occupations 
he  took  walks  over  the  sand-fiats  near,  or  among  the 
farms  which  were  gradually  overspreading  the  country 
in  the  vicinity  of  Cape  Town.      He  grew  familiar  withi 
the  outline  of  Table  Mountain,  and  the  fleecy  '  Devil's 
Table-Cloth '  which  used  to  settle  on  its  top  when  the^ 
wind  was  south-east.     On  these  promenades  he  would 
more  particularly  think  of  Viviette,  and  of  that  curious '. 
pathetic  chapter  in  his  life  with  her  which  seemed  to: 
have    wound   itself  up   and  ended    for  ever.     Those 
scenes  were   rapidly  receding  into    distance,  and    the 
intensity  of  his  sentiment  regarding  them  had   pro- 

300 


-pace 
witi 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

sidfij    portionately  abated.      He   felt    that    there   had   been 

nielyj  something  wrong  therein,  and  yet  he  could  not  exacdy 
define  the  boundary  of  the  wrong.  Viviette's  sad  and 
amazing  sequel  to  that  chapter  had  still  a  fearful, 
I  catastrophic  aspect  in  his  eyes  ;  but  instead  of  musing 
over  it  and  its  bearings  he  shunned  the  subject,  as 
we  shun  by  night  the  shady  scene  of  a  disaster,  and 
keep  to  the  open  road. 

He  sometimes  contemplated  her  apart  from  the 
past — leading  her  life  in  the  Cathedral  Close  at 
Melchester ;  and  wondered  how  often  she  looked 
south  and  thought  of  where  he  was. 

On  one  of  these  afternoon  walks  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Royal  Observatory  he  turned  and 
gazed  towards  the  signal-post  on  the  Lion's  Rump. 
This  was  a  high  promontory  to  the  north-west  of 
Table  Mountain,  and  overlooked  Table  Bay.  Before 
his  eyes  had  left  the  scene  the  signal  was  suddenly 
hoisted  on  the  staff      It  announced  that  a  mail  steamer 

,ar||  had  appeared  in  view  over  the  sea.  In  the  course  of 
an  hour  he  retraced  his  steps,  as  he  had  often  done 
on  such   occasions,   and    strolled    leisurely  across    the 

ioil  intervening    mile    and  a  half  till    he    arrived    at    the 
post-office  door. 

There  was  no  letter  from  England  for  him  ;  but 
there  was  a  newspaper,  addressed  in  the  seventeenth- 
century  handwriting  of  his  grandmother,  who,  in  spite 
of  her  great  age,  still  retained  a  steady  hold  on  life. 
He  turned  away  disappointed,  and  resumed  his  walk 

iLitiB  i^t<^  ^he  country,  opening  the  paper  as  he  went  along. 
A  cross  in  black  ink  attracted  his  attention  ;  and 

ig  J  it  was  opposite  a  name  among  the  'Deaths.'  His 
blood  ran  icily  as  he  discerned  the  words  *  The  Palace, 
IMelchester.'  But  it  was  not  she.  Her  husband, 
the  Bishop  of   IMelchester,  had,   after  a  short  illness, 

g(jM  departed  this  life  at  the  comparatively  early  age  of 
fifty-four  years. 

All  the  enactments  of  the  bygone  days  at  Welland 
now  started  up  like  an  awakened  army  from  the  ground. 

301 


5V01' 


pDlDi 

.•an 

were 
liini 


■J 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

But  a  few  months  were  wanting  to  the  time  when  he 
would  be  of  an  age  to  marry  without  sacrificing 
the  annuity  which  formed  his  means  of  subsistence. 
It  was  a  point  in  his  life  that  had  had  no  meaning 
or  interest  for  him  since  his  separation  from  Viviette, 
for  women  were  now  no  more  to  him  than  the 
inhabitants  of  Jupiter.  But  the  whirligig  of  time 
having  again  set  Viviette  free,  the  aspect  of  home 
altered,  and  conjecture  as  to  her  future  found  room  to 
work  anew. 

But  beyond  the  simple  fact  that  she  was  a  widow 
he  for  some  time  gained  not  an  atom  of  intelligence 
concerning  her.  There  was  no  one  of  whom  he 
could  Inquire  but  his  grandmother,  and  she  could 
tell  him  nothing  about  a  lady  who  dwelt  far  away  at 
Melchester. 

Several  months  slipped  by  thus  ;  and  no  feeling 
within  him  rose  to  sufficient  strength  to  force  him 
out  of  a  passive  attitude.  Then  by  the  merest  chance 
his  granny  stated  in  one  of  her  rambling  epistles  that 
Lady  Constantlne  was  coming  to  live  again  at  Welland 
in  the  old  house,  with  her  child,  now  a  little  boy 
between  three  and  four  years  of  age. 

Swithin,  however,  lived  on  as  before. 

But  by  the  following  autumn  a  change  became 
necessary  for  the  young  man  himself.  His  work  at 
the  Cape  was  done.  His  uncle's  wishes  that  he 
should  study  there  had  been  more  than  observed. 
The  materials  for  his  great  treatise  were  collected, 
and  it  now  only  remained  for  him  to  arrange,  digest, 
and  publish  them,  for  which  purpose  a  return  to 
England  was  indispensable. 

So  the  equatorial  was  unscrewed,  and  the  stand 
taken  down  ;  the  astronomer's  barrow-load  of  precious 
memoranda,  and  rolls  upon  rolls  of  diagrams,  repre- 
senting three  years  of  continuous  labour,  were  safely 
packed  ;  and  Swithin  departed  for  good  and  all  from 
the  shores  of  Cape  Town. 

He   had   long   before   informed   his   grandmother 

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TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

of  the  date  at  which  she  might  expect  him  ;  and  in 
a  reply  from  her,  which  reached  him  just  previous  to 
sailing,  she  casually  mentioned  that  she  frequendy  saw 
Lady  Constantine  ;  that  on  the  last  occasion  her  lady- 
ship had  shown  great  interest  in  the  information  that 
Swithin  was  coming  home,  and  had  inquired  the  time 
of  his  return. 

On  a  late  summer  day  Swithin  stepped  from  the 
train  at  Warborne,  and,  directing  his  baggape  to  be 
sent  on  after  him,  set  out  on  foot  for  old  Welland  once 
again. 

It  seemed  but  the  day  after  his  departure,  so  litde 
had  the  scene  changed.  True,  there  was  that  change 
which  is  always  the  first  to  arrest  attention  in  places 
that  are  conventionally  called  unchanging — a  higher 
and  broader  vegetation  at  every  familiar  corner  than  at 
the  former  time. 

He  had  not  gone  a  mile  when  he  saw  walking 
before  him  a  clergyman  whose  form,  after  consideration, 
he  recognized,  in  spite  of  a  novel  whiteness  in  that 
part  of  his  hair  that  showed  below  the  brim  of  his  hat. 
Swithin  walked  much  faster  than  this  gentleman,  and 
soon  was  at  his  side. 

*  Mr.  Torkingham !   I  knew  it  was,'  said  Swithin. 
Mr.   Torkingham   was  slower  in    recognizing    the 

astronomer,  but  in  a  moment  had  greeted  him  with  a 
warm  shake  of  the  hand. 

*  I  have  been  to  the  station  on  purpose  to  meet 
you ! '  cried  Mr.  Torkingham,  '  and  was  returning  with 
the  idea  that  you  had  not  come.  I  am  your  grand- 
mother's emissary.  She  could  not  come  herself,  and 
as  she  was  anxious,  and  nobody  else  could  be  spared, 
I  came  for  her.' 

Then  they  walked  on  together.  The  parson  told 
Swithin  all  about  his  grandmother,  the  parish,  and  his 
endeavours  to  enlighten  it ;  and  in  due  course  said, 
'You  are  no  doubt  aware  that  Lady  Constantine  is 
living  again  at  Welland  ? ' 

303 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Swithln  said  he  had  heard  as  much,  and  added, 
what  was  far  within  the  truth,  that  the  news  of  the 
Bishop's  death  had  been  a  great  surprise  to  him. 

*  Yes,'  said  Mr.  Torkingham,  with  nine  thoughts  to 
one  word.  *  One  might  have  prophesied,  to  look  at 
him,  that  Melchester  would  not  lack  a  bishop  for  the 
next  forty  years.  Yes ;  pale  death  knocks  at  the 
cottages  of  the  poor  and  the  palaces  of  kings  with  an 
impartial  foot ! ' 

'  Was  he  a  particularly  good  man  ? '  asked  Swithin. 

*  He  was  not  a  Ken  or  a  Heber.  To  speak 
candidly,  he  had  his  faults,  of  which  arrogance  was  not 
the  least.     But  who  is  perfect  ? ' 

Swithin,  somehow,  felt  relieved  to  hear  that  the 
Bishop  was  not  a  perfect  man. 

*  His  poor  wife,  I  fear,  had  not  a  great  deal  more 
happiness  with  him  than  with  her  first  husband.  But 
one  might  almost  have  foreseen  it ;  the  marriage  was 
hasty — the  result  of  a  red-hot  caprice,  hardly  becoming 
in  a  man  of  his  position  ;  and  it  betokened  a  want  of 
temperate  discretion  which  soon  showed  itself  in  other 
ways.  That's  all  there  was  to  be  said  against  him ; 
and  now  it's  all  over,  and  things  have  settled  again 
into  their  old  course.  But  the  Bishop's  widow  is  not 
the  Lady  Constantine  of  former  days.  No  ;  put  it  as 
you  will,  she  is  not  the  same.  There  seems  to  be  a 
nameless  something  on  her  mind — a  trouble — a  rooted 
melancholy,  which  no  man's  ministry  can  reach.  For- 
merly she  was  a  woman  whose  confidence  it  was  easy 
to  gain  ;  but  neither  religion  nor  philosophy  avails  with 
her  now.  Beyond  that,  her  life  is  strangely  like  what 
it  was  when  you  were  with  us.' 

Conversing  thus  they  pursued  the  turnpike  road 
till  their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  crying 
voice  on  their  left.  They  looked,  and  perceived  that  a 
child,  in  getting  over  an  adjoining  stile,  had  fallen  on 
his  face. 

Mr.  Torkingham  and  Swithin  both  hastened  up  to 
help  the  sufferer,  who  was  a  lovely  little  fellow  with 

304 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

flaxen  hair,  which  spread  out  in  a  frill  of  curls  from 
beneath  a  quaint,  close-fitting  velvet  cap  that  he  wore. 
Swithin  picked  him  up,  while  Mr.  Torkingham  wiped 
the  sand  from  his  lips  and  nose,  and  administered  a 
few  words  of  consolation,  together  with  a  few  sweet- 
meats, which,  somewhat  to  Swithin's  surprise,  the 
parson  produced  as  if  by  magic  from  his  pocket.  One 
half  the  comfort  rendered  would  have  sufficed  to  soothe 
such  a  disposition  as  the  child's.  He  ceased  crying 
and  ran  away  in  delight  to  his  unconscious  nurse, 
who  was  reaching  up  for  blackberries  at  a  hedge  some 
way  off. 

*  You  know  who  he  is,  of  course  ? '  said  Mr.  Tor- 
kingham, as  they  resumed  their  journey. 

'  No,'  said  Swithin. 

*  O,  I  thought  you  did.  Yet  how  should  you?  It 
is  Lady  Constantine's  boy — her  only  child.  Remark- 
ably fine  boy,  and  yet  he  was  a  seven-months'  baby. 
His  fond  mother  little  thinks  he  is  so  far  away  from 
home.' 

*  Dear  me  ! — Lady  Constantine's — ah,  how  interest- 
ing ! '  Swithin  paused  abstractedly  for  a  moment,  then 
stepped  back  again  to  the  stile,  while  he  stood  watch- 
ing the  little  boy  out  of  sight. 

'  I  can  never  venture  out  of  doors  now  without 
sweets  in  my  pocket,'  continued  the  good-natured 
vicar :  *  and  the  result  is  that  I  meet  that  young  man 
more  frequently  on  my  rounds  than  any  other  of  my 
parishioners.' 

St.  Cleeve  was  silent,  and  they  turned  into  Welland 
Lane,  where  their  paths  presently  diverged,  and 
Swithin  was  left  to  pursue  his  way  alone.  He  might 
have  accompanied  the  vicar  yet  further,  and  gone 
^straight  to  Welland  House ;  but  it  would  have  been 
difficult  to  do  so  then  without  provoking  inquiry.  It 
was  easy  to  go  there  now  :  by  a  cross  path  he  could  be 
at  the  mansion  almost  as  soon  as  by  the  direct  road. 
And  yet  Swithin  did  not  turn  ;  he  felt  an  indescribable 
reluctance  to  see  Viviette.     He  could  not  exactly  say 

305 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

why.  True,  before  he  knew  how  the  land  lay  it  might 
be  awkward  to  attempt  to  call :  and  this  was  a  sufficient 
excuse  for  postponement. 

In  this  mood  he  went  on,  following  the  direct  way 
to  his  grandmother's  homestead.  He  reached  the 
garden-gate,  and,  looking  into  the  bosky  basin  where 
the  old  house  stood,  saw  a  graceful  female  form  moving 
before  the  porch,  bidding  adieu  to  some  one  within 
the  door. 

He  wondered  what  creature  of  that  mould  his 
grandmother  could  know,  and  went  forward  with  some 
hesitation.  At  his  approach  the  apparition  turned,  and 
he  beheld,  developed  into  blushing  womanhood,  one 
who  had  once  been  known  to  him  as  the  village  maiden 
Tabitha  Lark.  Seeing  Swithin,  and  apparently  from 
an  instinct  that  her  presence  would  not  be  desirable 
just  then,  she  moved  quickly  round  into  the  garden. 

The  returned  traveller  entered  the  house,  where  he 
found  awaiting  him  poor  old  Mrs.  Martin,  to  whose 
earthly  course  death  stood  rather  as  the  asymptote 
than  as  the  end.  She  was  perceptibly  smaller  in  form 
than  when  he  had  left  her,  and  she  could  see  less 
distinctly. 

A  rather  affecting  greeting  followed,  in  which  his 
grandmother  murmured  the  words  of  Israel :  *  *'  Now 
let  me  die,  since  I  have  seen  thy  face,  because  thou 
art  yet  alive." ' 

The  form  of  Hannah  had  disappeared  from  the 
kitchen,  that  ancient  servant  having  been  gathered  to 
her  fathers  about  six  months  before,  her  place  being 
filled  by  a  young  girl  who  knew  not  Joseph.  They 
presently  chatted  with  much  cheerfulness,  and  his 
grandmother  said,  *  Have  you  heard  what  a  wonder- 
ful young  woman  Miss  Lark  has  become? — a  mere 
fleet  -  footed,  slittering  maid  when  you  were  last 
home.' 

St.  Cleeve  had  not  heard,  but  he  had  partly  seen, 
and  he  was  informed  that  Tabitha  had  left  Welland 
shortly  after  his  own  departure,  and  had  studied  music 

306 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

with  great  success  in  London,  where  she  had  resided 
ever  since  till  quite  recently ;  that  she  played  at 
concerts,  oratorios — had,  in  short,  joined  the  phalanx 
of  Wonderful  Women  who  had  resolved  to  eclipse 
masculine  genius  altogether,  and  humiliate  the  brutal 
sex  to  the  dust. 

'  She  is  only  in  the  garden,'  added  his  grandmother. 
*  Why  don't  ye  go  out  and  speak  to  her  ? ' 

Swithin  was  nothing  loth,  and  strolled  out  under 
the  apple-trees,  where  he  arrived  just  in  time  to 
prevent  Miss  Lark  from  going  off  by  the  back 
gate.  There  was  not  much  difficulty  in  breaking 
the  ice  between  them,  and  they  began  to  chat  with 
vivacity. 

Now  all  these  proceedings  occupied  time,  for  some- 
how it  was  very  charming  to  talk  to  Miss  Lark  ;  and 
by  degrees  St.  Cleeve  informed  Tabitha  of  his  great 
undertaking,  and  of  the  voluminous  notes  he  had 
amassed,  which  would  require  so  much  rearrangement 
and  recopying  by  an  amanuensis  as  to  absolutely  appal 
him.  He  greatly  feared  he  should  not  get  one  careful 
enough  for  such  scientific  matter ;  whereupon  Tabitha 
said  she  would  be  delighted  to  do  it  for  him.  Then 
blushing,  and  declaring  suddenly  that  it  had  grown 
quite  late,  she  left  him  and  the  garden  for  her  relation's 
house  hard  by. 

Swithin,  no  less  than  Tabitha,  had  been  surprised 
by  the  disappearance  of  the  sun  behind  the  hill ;  and 
the  question  now  arose  whether  it  would  be  advisable 
to  call  upon  Viviette  that  night.  There  was  little 
doubt  that  she  knew  of  his  coming ;  but  more  than 
that  he  could  not  predicate ;  and  being  entirely 
ignorant  of  whom  she  had  around  her,  entirely  in 
^  the  dark  as  to  her  present  feelings  towards  him,  he 
thought  it  would  be  better  to  defer  his  visit  until  the 
next  day. 

Walking  round  to  the  front  of  the  house  he  beheld 
the  well-known  agriculturists  Hezzy  Biles,  Hay  moss 
Fry,  and  some  others  of  the  same  old  school,  passing 

307 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

the  gate  homeward  from  their  work  with  bundles  of 
wood  at  their  backs.  Swithin  saluted  them  over  the 
top  rail. 

'  Well !  do  my  eyes  and  ears — '  began  Hezzy  ;  and 
then,  balancing  his  faggot  on  end  against  the  hedge, 
he  came  forward,  the  others  following. 

'  Says  I  to  myself  as  soon  as  I  heerd  his  voice,' 
Hezzy  continued  (addressing  Swithin  as  if  he  were 
a  disinterested  spectator  and  not  himself),  '  please 
God  I'll  pitch  my  nitch,  and  go  across  and  speak 
to  en.' 

*  I  knowed  in  a  winking  'twas  some  great  navigator 
that  I  see  a  standing  there,'  said  Haymoss.  '  But 
whe'r  'twere  a  sort  of  nabob,  or  a  diment-digger,  or  a 
lion-hunter,  I  couldn't  so  much  as  guess  till  I  heerd  en 
speak.' 

*  And  what  changes  have  come  over  Welland  since 
I  was  last  at  home  ? '  asked  Swithin. 

'Well,  Mr.  San  Cleeve,'  Hezzy  replied,  'when 
you've  said  that  a  few  stripling  boys  and  maidens  have 
busted  into  blooth,  and  a  few  married  women  have 
plimmed  and  chimped  (my  lady  among  'em),  why, 
you've  said  anighst  all,  Mr.  San  Cleeve.' 

The  conversation  thus  begun  was  continued  on 
divers  matters  till  they  were  all  enveloped  in  total 
darkness,  when  his  old  acquaintances  shouldered  their 
faggots  again  and  proceeded  on  their  way. 

Now  that  he  was  actually  within  her  coasts  again 
Swithin  felt  a  little  more  strongly  the  influence  of  the 
past  and  Viviette  than  he  had  been  accustomed  to  do 
for  the  last  two  or  three  years.  During  the  night  he 
felt  half  sorry  that  he  had  not  marched  off  to  the  Great 
House  to  see  her,  regardless  of  the  time  of  day.  If 
she  really  nourished  for  him  any  particle  of  her  old 
affection  it  had  been  the  cruellest  thing  not  to  call. 
A  few  questions  that  he  put  concerning  her  to  his 
grandmother  elicited  that  Lady  Constantine  had  no 
friends  about  her — not  even  her  brother — and  that 
her  health  had  not  been  so  good  since  her  return  from 

308 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Melchester  as  formerly.  Still,  this  proved  nothincr  as 
to  the  state  of  her  heart,  and  as  she  had  kept  a  dead 
silence  since  the  Bishop's  death  it  was  quite  possible 
that  she  would  meet  him  with  that  cold  repressive 
tone  and  manner  which  experienced  women  know  so 
well  how  to  put  on  when  they  wish  to  intimate  to 
the  long-lost  lover  that  past  episodes  are  to  be  taken 
as  forofotten. 

The  next  morning  he  prepared  to  call,  if  only  on 
the  ground  of  old  acquaintance,  for  Swithin  was  too 
straightforward  to  ascertain  anything  indirectly.  It 
was  rather  too  early  for  this  purpose  when  he  went  out 
from  his  grandmother's  garden -gate,  after  breakfast, 
and  he  waited  in  the  garden.  VVhile  he  lingered  his 
eye  fell  on  Rings- Hill  Speer. 

It  appeared  dark,  for  a  moment,  against  the  blue 
sky  behind  it ;  then  the  fleeting  cloud  which  shadowed 
it  passed  on,  and  the  face  of  the  column  brightened 
into  such  luminousness  that  the  sky  behind  sank  to 
the  complexion  of  a  dark  foil. 

'Surely  somebody  is  on  the  column,'  he  said  to 
himself,  after  gazing  at  it  awhile. 

Instead  of  going  straight  to  the  Great  House  he 
deviated  throuo^h  the  insulatino^  field,  now  sown  with 
turnips,  which  surrounded  the  plantation  on  Rings- 
Hill.  By  the  time  that  he  plunged  under  the  trees  he 
was  still  more  certain  that  somebody  was  on  the  tower. 
He  crept  up  to  the  base  with  proprietary  curiosity,  for 
the  spot  seemed  again  like  his  own. 

The  path  still  remained  much  as  formerly,  but  the 
nook  in  which  the  cabin  had  stood  was  covered  with 
undergrowth.  Swithin  entered  the  door  of  the  tower, 
ascended  the  staircase  about  half-way  on  tip-toe,  and 
listened,  for  he  did  not  wish  to  intrude  on  the  top  if 
any  stranger  were  there.  The  hollow  spiral,  as  he 
knew  from  old  experience,  would  bring  down  to  his 
ears  the  slightest  sound  from  above  ;  and  it  now  re- 
vealed to  him  the  words  of  a  duologue  in  progress  at 
the  summit  of  the  tower. 

309 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  Mother,  what  shall  I  do  ? '  a  child's  voice  said. 

*  Shall  I  sing  ? ' 

The  mother  seemed  to  assent,  for  the  child  began — 

*  The  robin  has  fled  from  the  wood, 
To  the  snug  habitation  of  man.' 

This  performance  apparently  attracted  but  little 
attention  from  the  child's  companion,  for  the  young 
voice   suggested,    as   a    new   form   of  entertainment, 

*  Shall  I  say  my  prayers  ?  ' 

*Yes,'  replied  one  whom  S within  had  begun  to 
recognize. 

'  Who  shall  I  pray  for  ? 
No  answer. 

*  Who  shall  I  pray  for  ?  * 

*  Pray  for  father.' 

*  But  he  is  gone  to  heaven  ?  * 

A  sigh  from  Viviette  was  distinctly  audible. 

'  You  made  a  mistake,  didn't  you,  mother  ? '  con- 
tinued the  little  one. 

'  I  must  have.  The  strangest  mistake  a  woman 
ever  made ! ' 

Nothing  more  was  said,  and  Swithin  ascended, 
words  from  above  indicating  to  him  that  his  footsteps 
were  heard.  In  another  half-minute  he  rose  through 
the  hatchway.  A  lady  in  black  was  sitting  in  the  sun, 
and  the  boy  with  the  flaxen  hair  whom  he  had  seen 
yesterday  was  at  her  feet. 

*  Viviette  ! '  he  said. 

*  Swithin  ! — at  last ! '  she  cried. 

The  words  died  upon  her  lips,  and  from  very 
faintness  she  bent  her  head.  For  instead  of  rushing 
forward  to  her  he  had  stood  still ;  and  there  appeared 
upon  his  face  a  look  which  there  was  no  mistaking. 

Yes ;  he  was  shocked  at  her  worn  and  faded 
aspect.  The  image  he  had  mentally  carried  out  with 
him  to  the  Cape  he  had  brought  home  again  as  that  of 
the  woman  he  was  now  to  rejoin.  But  another  woman 
sat  before  him,  and  not  the  original  Viviette.     Her 

310 


I 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

cheeks  had  lost  for  ever  that  firm  contour  which  had 
been  drawn  by  the  vigorous  hand  of  youth,  and  the 
masses  of  hair  that  were  once  darkness  visible  had 
become  touched  here  and  there  by  a  faint  grey  haze, 
like  the  Via  Lactea  in  a  midnight  sky. 

Yet  to  those  who  had  eyes  to  understand  as  well 
as  to  see,  the  chastened  pensiveness  of  her  once 
handsome  features  revealed  more  promising  material 
beneath  than  ever  her  youth  had  done.  But  Swithin 
was  hopelessly  her  junior.  Unhappily  for  her  he  had 
now  just  arrived  at  an  age  whose  canon  of  faith  it  is 
that  the  silly  period  of  woman's  life  is  her  only  period 
of  beauty.  Viviette  saw  it  all,  and  knew  that  Time 
had  at  last  brought  about  his  revenges.  She  had 
tremblingly  watched  and  waited  without  sleep,  ever 
since  Swithin  had  re-entered  Welland,  and  it  was  for 
this. 

Swithin  came  forward,  and  took  her  by  the  hand, 
which  she  passively  allowed  him  to  do. 

'  Swithin,  you  don't  love  me,'  she  said  simply. 

*  O  Viviette  ! ' 

*  You  don't  love  me,'  she  repeated. 

*  Don't  say  it ! ' 

*  Yes,  but  I  will !  you  have  a  right  not  to  love 
me.  You  did  once.  But  now  I  am  an  old  woman, 
and  you  are  still  a  young  man  ;  so  how  can  you  love 
me  ?  I  do  not  expect  it.  It  is  kind  and  charitable  of 
you  to  come  and  see  me  here.' 

*  I  have  come  all  the  way  from  the  Cape,'  he 
faltered,  for  her  insistence  took  all  power  out  of  him  to 
deny  in  mere  politeness  what  she  said. 

'  Yes  ;  you  have  come  from  the  Cape  ;  but  not  for 
me,'  she  answered.  *  It  would  be  absurd  if  you  had 
come  for  me.  You  have  come  because  your  work 
there  is  finished.  ...  I  like  to  sit  here  with  my  little 
boy — it  is  a  pleasant  spot.  It  was  once  something  to 
us,  was  it  not  ?  but  that  was  long  ago.  You  scarcely 
knew  me  for  the  same  woman,  did  you  ? ' 

*  Knew  you — yes,  of  course  I  knew  you ! ' 

311 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

*  You  looked  as  if  you  did  not.  But  you  must  not 
be  surprised  at  me.  I  belong  to  an  earlier  generation 
than  you,  remember.' 

Thus,  in  sheer  bitterness  of  spirit  did  she  inflict 
wounds  on  herself  by  exaggerating  the  difference  in 
their  years.  But  she  had  nevertheless  spoken  truly. 
Sympathize  with  her  as  he  might,  and  as  he  un- 
questionably did,  he  loved  her  no  longer.  But  why 
had  she  expected  otherwise?  'O  woman,'  might 
a  prophet  have  said  to  her,  'great  is  thy  faith  if 
thou  believest  a  junior  lover's  love  will  last  five 
years ! ' 

*  I  shall  be  glad  to  know  through  your  grandmother 
how  you  are  getting  on,'  she  said  meekly.  'But  now 
I  would  much  rather  that  we  part.  Yes ;  do  not 
question  me.  I  would  rather  that  we  part.  Good- 
bye.' 

Hardly  knowing  what  he  did  he  touched  her  hand, 
and  obeyed.  He  was  a  scientist,  and  took  words 
literally.  There  is  something  in  the  inexorably  simple 
logic  of  such  men  which  partakes  of  the  cruelty  of  the 
natural  laws  that  are  their  study.  He  entered  the 
tower-steps,  and  mechanically  descended ;  and  it  was 
not  till  he  got  half-way  down  that  he  thought  she 
could  not  mean  what  she  had  said. 

Before  leaving  Cape  Town  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  on  this  one  point ;  that  if  she  were  willing  to 
marry  him,  marry  her  he  would  without  let  or  hind- 
rance. That  much  he  morally  owed  her,  and  was  not 
the  man  to  demur.  And  though  the  Swithin  who  had 
returned  was  not  quite  the  Swithin  who  had  gone 
away,  though  he  could  not  now  love  her  with  the 
sort  of  love  he  had  once  bestowed  ;  he  believed  that 
all  her  conduct  had  been  dictated  by  the  purest 
benevolence  to  him,  by  that  charity  which  'seeketh 
not  her  own.'  Hence  he  did  not  flinch  from  a  wish 
to  deal  with  loving-kindness  towards  her — a  senti- 
ment perhaps  in  the  long-run  more  to  be  prized  than 
lover's  love. 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

Her  manner  had  caught  him  unawares  ;  but  nov; 
recovering    himself    he    turned    back    determinedly 
Bursting   out   upon    the   roof  he   clasped    her    in    hi? 
arms,  and  kissed  her  several  times. 

*  Viviette,  Viviette,'  he  said,  *  I  came  to  marry  vor 
and  I  will ! ' 

She  uttered  a  shriek — a  shriek  of  amazed  joy — 
such  as  never  was  heard  on  that  tower  before  or  since 
— and  fell  in  his  arms,  clasping  his  neck. 

There  she  lay  heavily.  Not  to  disturb  her  he  sat 
down  in  her  seat,  still  holding  her  fast.  Their  little 
son,  who  had  stood  with  round  conjectural  eyes 
throughout  the  meeting,  now  came  close  ;  and  presently 
looking  up  to  Swithin  said — 

*  Mother  has  gone  to  sleep.' 

Swithin  looked  down,  and  started.  Her  tight 
clasp  had  loosened.  A  wave  of  whiteness,  like  that 
of  marble  which  had  never  seen  the  sun,  crept  up  from 
her  neck,  and  travelled  upwards  and  onwards  over 
her  cheek,  lips,  eyelids,  forehead,  temples,  its  margin 
banishing  back  the  live  pink  till  the  latter  had  entirely 
disappeared. 

Seeing  that  something  was  wrong,  yet  not  under- 
standing what,  the  little  boy  began  to  cry ;  but  in  his 
concentration  Swithin  hardly  heard  it.  *  Viviette — 
Viviette  ! '  he  said. 

The  child  cried  with  still  deeper  grief,  and,  after  a 
momentary  hesitation,  pushed  his  hand  into  Swithin's 
for  protection. 

'  Hush,  hush !  my  child,'  said  Swithin  distractedly. 
'I'll  take  care  of  you!  O  Viviette!'  he  exclaimed 
again,  pressing  her  face  to  his. 

But  she  did  not  reply. 

'What  can  this  be  .^ '  he  asked  himself.  He  would 
not  then  answer  according  to  his  fear. 

He  looked  up  for  help.  Nobody  appeared  in  sight 
but  Tabitha  Lark,  who  was  skirting  the  field  with  a 
bounding  tread — the  single  bright  spot  of  colour  and 
animation  within  the  wide  horizon.     When  he  looked 

313 


TWO  ON  A  TOWER 

dow.i  again  his  fear  deepened  to  certainty.  It  was  no 
longer  a  mere  surmise  that  help  was  vain.  Sudden 
joy  ^iter  despair  had  touched  an  over-strained  heart 
too  smardy.  Viviette  was  dead.  The  Bishop  was 
aveiiged 


THE  END 


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